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k> 



Hearts Aflame 


BY 

LOUISE WINTER 

ILLUSTRATED BY ARCHIE GUNN 





1903 

The 5mart 5et Publishing Co. 

NEW YORK LONDON 








THt LibfJAKY OF 
CONOt=(eSS. 

Two Copies Recoivor, 

SEP 18 (903 

Copyiifcni toKy 

/r, » 4 ?o 5 

CLASS Pk0 XXc. No 

yoiiqih 

COPY B. 


3J^ 


COPYRIGHTED 
I 9 o I , by 
ESS ESS 
PUBLISHING CO. 


COPYRIGHTED 

19031 y 

THE SMART SET 
PUBLISHING CO. 


J^trst Printing Aug-. 


•• • • 


* • • • • • • 


• • ♦ ♦ 




Preface 


“ Hearts Aflame ” is first and last a satire, but 
it is a gentle satire ; it pokes fun courteously, it 
holds our foibles up to smiling ridicule, and it 
teaches — if a satire can be said to teach anything — 
that a mantle of gold covers a multitude of sins. 

Beatrice Harmony is not a typical American — 
she is an American type, common enough in this 
clever, cynical, nervous age of ours, that has bred 
a smart set, here to-day, gone to-morrow, in which 
the prevailing cry is, “Something new to amuse 
us!” 

And Charteris — he, too, is a type, not so com- 
mon in America, where the women represent only 
the leisure class and the wealthiest men are cap- 
tains of industry. He is the advance guard, 
broadly sketched, a trifle overdrawn, showing 
what we may possibly develop in another genera- 
tion. 

The story is not founded on fact, nor does it 
uphold divorce; it merely calls attention to a 
growing evil in our midst ; it shows the ease with 
which matrimonial shabkles, once they become 
irksome, may be cast off. A wet sponge, and the 
record of years is effaced, and men and women 
are free to begin over again — perhaps. Ah! in 
that word lies the sting of the satire. 


Ai/^usf, ipoj. 


L. W. 




I 






CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Drawing the Line 15 

II. Domestic Matters 25 

III. A Set of Sables 33 

IV. Strategy 43 

V. A Tete-A-Tete 49 

VI. The Incident with Caprice 61 

VII. Diamonds 73 

VIII. Some Gossip 81 

IX. A Man’s Cab 89 

X. At the Bazar 97 

XI. A Supper Party 107 

XII. Gone Under 115 

XIII. The Turning Point 125 

XIV. Retrospect 135 

XV. “He Seeks^o Buy Me” 143 

XVI. Caprice Again 153 

XVII. A Man’s Passion 161 

XVIII. The Horseshoe 169 


Contentsi 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. Mrs. Parthington Talks 179 

XX. After Dinner 189 

XXI. Concerning Charteris 199 

XXII. Love, the Conqueror 209 

XXIII. Poor Little Angela! 219 

XXIV. Her Freedom I 227 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


‘ And this is love ? ’ she mused. ” 

She stood before the mirror 
rapturously.” 

‘Liar!’ she said.” 

He raised his head. His dark 
eyes burned sombrely in his 
white face.” - - - - 

As he opened the door, Beatrice 
started from the chair in 
which she had been shrink- 
ing.” . - - - - 

Then she looked up fiercely.” 


Frontispiece. 

Page 41. 
Page 71. 

Page 129. 

Page 163. 
Page 225. 


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■ ■■ ' '.•/• 

■' f • ' 

' F. . 







Love s arms were wreathed about 
the neck of Hope^ 

And Hope kiss'd Love^ and Love 
drew in her breath 
In that close kiss and drank 
her whisper'd tales, 

Tennyson. — The Lover" s Tale, 



















HEARTS AFLAME. 


CHAPTER I 

DRAWING THE LINE 

“Receive her? Not I.” 

“ Fancy being so particular ! ” 

“ One must draw the line somewhere,” 
the first speaker drawled, in a rich, indolent 
voice. She was a slender, dark-eyed woman, 
gowned magnificently in purple velvet. 

Her companion, sitting opposite, replaced 
her tea-cup on its saucer before remarking, 
with apparent irrelevance : 

“ Those Tyroleans are wretched !” 

It was the first year that the Palm Garden 
of the Waldorf was opened as a tea-room, 
and society, welcoming the novelty, was in 

15 


ipeartsi aflame 


the habit of dropping in for a cup of tea 
about five o'clock. 

The other woman shrugged her shoulders. 

They do their part ; fill up gaps in the 
conversation and give us something to cavil 
at," she said. Helena Lloyd did not per- 
mit such a thing as a discordant note to 
ruffle her composure. 

‘‘And you will really strike Frances’s 
name from your list ? ’’ her companion re- 
sumed. She was in marked contrast to her 
friend, dressed simply in a tweed tailor- 
made, with a rather severe walking-hat tilted 
over her eyes. They were both leaders in 
the social world, and they were discussing 
a vital question, just then at issue. 

“ Why not? Do you think, because my 
first husband was such a brute I had to leave 
him, and because circumstances forced me 
into a second marriage, that I am bound to 
hold out a helping hand to all remarried 
divorcees who wish to climb back into the 
fold ? Really, my dear Mrs. Leigh, that is 
absurd ! ’’ 

A pause followed this tirade ; then Mrs, 

i6 


i^eartjs Marne 


Leigh, who was older and more lenient, 
began : "" If it had not been for the pub- 
licity *’ 

“ If ! My dear, it was horribly public/' 

« I know." 

‘^And the whole affair in such poor 
taste ! " 

Mrs. Leigh sighed. ‘‘ After all, if the 
private lives of a good many of us were laid 
bare . . ." 

Mrs. Lloyd frowned. “ You are so un- 
compromising," she murmured. What is 
known is sinful, not what is hidden.” 

Mrs. Leigh helped herself to another 
macaroon before she inquired : And Alec 
Dunbar — is he also to be ignored " 

It is no crime to be near-sighted." 

‘‘ But they are married now," Mrs. Leigh 
offered, by way of protest. 

“ Yes, after her husband got his divorce 
and his wife got hers, and they spent six 
months abroad." 

Mrs. Leigh laughed. What more do 
you exact ? Really, it is you who are un- 
compromising." 


17 


J^eartsi aflame 


Her friend looked at her curiously. ‘‘ Are 
you going to stand by them ? ” she asked. 

“ I ? — what an idea ! Still, I confess I 
am sorry for them, and if active partisanship 
were not such a bore, I might.** 

‘‘You are too good-natured ! ** 

There was a tinge of sarcasm, which Mrs. 
Leigh overlooked. “ There must be undis- 
covered depths in Frances*s character ; for 
it is not great men who inspire heroic pas- 
sions, it is great women who conceive them,** 
she said, thoughtfully. 

“ That sounds so interesting ; almost Em- 
ersonian, dear.** 

Mrs. Leigh did not answer. She was 
gazing at some new arrivals. Suddenly her 
face brightened with pleasure. “ Ah ! here 
comes Beatrice Harmony ! I wonder what 
attitude she*ll take in^ the matter ? They 
were great friends at one time.** 

“ She will do nothing quixotic ; she is the 
embodiment of selfishness,** sneered Mrs. 
Lloyd. 

“ That is a fault of the age,** returned 
her friend. “ How well she is looking ! ** 

i8 


i^eattjS aflame 


Russian sables, my dear ! That set 
never cost a penny less than five thousand, 
and she hasn't that a year to dress on.” 
Mrs. Lloyd was spiteful. Beatrice Har- 
mony was her pet aversion. 

Mrs. Harmony drifted in their direction, 
and Mrs. Leigh extended a detaining hand. 

How-de-do, Bee ; won't you join us ? '* 
she asked, cordially. She liked Mrs. Har- 
mony and found her entertaining. 

‘‘ Thanks ; awfully good of you, but I 
really can't. I'm on my way to join Mr. 
and Mrs. Dunbar ; they're over there in 
the corner.'' 

She spoke slowly and very distinctly ; it 
was impossible to misunderstand her. Both 
her listeners gasped in astonishment. 

Mrs. Leigh was the first to recover. She 
gave a little laugh ; it was a comedy, and 
she was vastly amused. 

Mrs. Lloyd put up her lorgnette and 
stared curiously in the direction indicated. 

So that is the bride ? '' she drawled. ‘‘ I 
fancied her face was familiar.'' 

Have you the trick of forgetting faces ? 

19 


i^eartjS Aflame 


It must be convenient. But there is some- 
thing about Francie Dunbar that people do 
not forget easily,” returned Beatrice, in her 
most suave tones. 

You refer to the scandal ? ” asked Mrs. 
Lloyd. 

Mrs. Leigh rushed into the breach. 

Beatrice, they say that friendship is the 
orchid of society ; are you going to prove 
it?” 

“ Would it be worth while ? ” Beatrice 
was pale, but smiling. 

“ I really don’t know, my dear,” returned 
the older woman, kindly ; then she added : 
“You are dining with me to-morrow; I 
hope you have not forgotten it ? ” 

“ Fortunately, I have a very good mem- 
ory, and besides, Mrs. Leigh’s dinners are 
events,” she said, courteously ; then, with a 
nod of her graceful head, she passed on. 

“ So the bride has found a champi- 
on,” commented Mrs. Lloyd, disagreeably. 
“ Well, ‘ birds of a feather,* and all the rest 
of it. I suppose it fits in this case as well 
as in others.” 


20 


!^eart)S aflame 


Mrs. Leigh looked bored. “ Aren't 
Mrs. Dunbar's affairs becoming a trifle 
monotonous ? Shall we go on ? I promised 
Mrs. Van Alstyne to look in about six ; De 
Lara is to sing at that hour. Are you com- 
ing ? " 

Mrs. Lloyd rose languidly. “Yes. That 
man is growing insupportable since Mrs. Van 
took him up. He looks like a Greek god, 
but he is merely a paid concert singer, and 
it seems so absurd to make all the to-do 
over him.” 

Mrs. Leigh moved toward the door. “ I 
quite agree with you ; he is impossible as a 
man, but delightful as a singer,” she an- 
swered, carelessly. 

Mrs. Lloyd veered whimsically. “ I 
don't know about his impossibility ; he is 
a gentleman. The women have gone mad 
over him. His rooms are full of trophies, 
and his mail is the despair of his secretary.” 

“ And his vanity overweening, in conse- 
quence,”, interrupted Mrs. Leigh. She was 
not interested in De Lara’s conquests. 

“ On the contrary, he is quite unaffected 
21 


<aflamc 


and seems rather abashed at his tremendous 
success.** 

“ A pose, my dear ! ** 

“ Perhaps, but everything is a pose now- 
adays, from Carrie Ashton*s vulgarity to 
Beatrice Harmony*s indifference.** Mrs. 
Lloyd drew her rich wrap closer about her 
shoulders and stepped into the brougham 
that was drawn up to receive them. 

Mrs. Leigh followed, and they drove 
rapidly up the Avenue. 

As they went up the carpeted stoop of 
Mrs. Van Alstyne*s house and passed into 
the brilliantly lighted hall, a burst of melody 
greeted their ears. 

After the Tyroleans at the Waldorf, 
this,** whispered Mrs. Leigh. 

Her friend caught her by the arm. 

Don*t go in — wait until he has finished ; 
the least sound annoys him ! ** 

‘‘ How well you know his foibles 1 ** 

“ He has sung for me, also. Oh ! how 
beautiful that was ! ** 

Silence, a storm of applause, and the two 
women entered the crowded rooms. 


22 


jpeattjj aflame 


“My dear Mrs. Leigh, I feared you were 
not coming,” purred Mrs. Van Alstyne. 

“ \Ve stopped in the hall so as not to dis- 
turb De Lara ; he is sensitive, I believe,” 
replied Mrs. Leigh, smiling. 

“ A perfect crank ; he wanted so much 
changed before he would open his mouth. 
Above all, he wanted air. Fancy expecting 
me to raise the blinds and spoil the effect of 
my rooms ! ” 

“ By the way, we saw Mr. and Mrs. Alec 
Dunbar at the Waldorf.” Mrs. Leigh made 
the statement casually. 

Mrs. Van Alstyne stiffened. “ I heard 
they were in New York,” she said, coldly. 

“ You have not seen them ? ” 

“ No ; have you ? ” 

“ Ah, but I intend to.” 

“ And I do not. Women cannot boldly 
defy all the conventions and expect to be 
received ! ” Mrs. Van Alstyne unfurled her 
fan with a sharp click. 

“ And men ? ” 

“ Oh, they were always privileged. Ah, 
how do you do, Mr. Charteris.” Mrs. Van 

23 


l^eartjs aflame 


Alstyne was all smiles as she turned to greet 
the new-comer. 

Mrs. Leigh shook her head. Poor 
Frances ! she murmured, regretfully. 


24 


CHAPTER II 


DOMESTIC MATTERS 

The Watts-Dunbar divorce case had been 
the sensation of the preceding year. 

People said that as long as Duncan Watts 
had closed his eyes for three years it was 
rather bad taste to make a row finally and 
carry his woes into the courts. Mrs. Dun- 
bar, a thorough woman of the world, had 
been content to share her husband's fortune 
without sharing his life, and she had good- 
humoredly tolerated Frances Watts. The 
only remark she had ever been heard to 
make was that she wondered what Alec saw 
to admire in Frances ; she possessed refine- 
ment, whereas his fancy, in Spring or Winter, 
had been wont to lightly turn to the banal 
beauties of the footlights. 

After Duncan Watts had taken the initia- 


% 


25 


i^eat'tsi aflame 


tive she was obliged to follow his lead ; and 
though Alec made her a handsome allowance, 
she regretted her place at Westbury, and the 
horses, which were prize-winners at every 
show. 

She had three children, and she knew Alec 
would feel the parting from them, though he 
gave her up cheerfully enough. 

Beatrice Harmony was with Frances the 
day the papers were served. The latter was 
in tears ; she was becomingly attired in black, 
and a great bowl of violets testified to Alec’s 
devotion. Frances’s mother was also there. 

‘‘ You are going abroad, and that is quite 
right,” said Beatrice. “ Your mother will be 
with you, and if you live over there quietly 
for a year you can come back and marry 
Alec, and all will be forgiven.” 

She spoke soothingly, but Frances shook 
her head. 

‘‘ I never shall get over it. Bee, never 1 
Wasn’t it horrid of Duncan to behave as he 
did ? ” she wailed. 

“Yes, it was horrid, and to bribe your 
maid ! Well, comfort yourself, dear, with 
26 


l^eartjS aflame 


the assurance that we all sympathize with 
you.’' Beatrice gave her an encouraging pat 
on the shoulder, and rose to go. 

She was tall and slender, with a graceful, 
willowy figure that men admired and women 
envied. Her black-lashed blue eyes were 
singularly inscrutable, and her smile intensi- 
fied their expression. She looked with mild 
amusement alike on the social comedies that 
were sadder than tears and the tragedies that 
were comic. She was the spirit of the cen- 
tury-end disillusionment. She never quite 
believed in either good or evil. 

“ Everything is possible, but nothing is 
probable. We are not a race of giants, and 
as our stature is, so is our capability for emo- 
tion. We play at being divinities, and in 
reality we are made of very common clay,” 
she said once, with that faintly elusive gleam 
of humor that characterized her temperament. 

Don’t you believe in anything ? ” de- 
manded her auditor, who happened to be 
Frances. 

“ Oh, yes, in man’s honor and in woman’s 
beauty. One is as flawless as the other.” 

2; 


i^cavtjS aflame 


“ Beatrice, what has changed you ? ” 

“ Rubbing shoulders with the world. It 
is a mighty disagreeable old world, Francie, 
and it gives hard knocks to an ambitious 
woman of good birth and scant income. I 
am not complaining. Harry never dreamed 
that he could lose the little he had ; neither 
did I. We were as ignorant of pitfalls as 
two children who set off, hand in hand, for 
the Palace of Delight. Were — we are not 
ignorant now, thank goodness ! Harry knows 
the value of a gullible investor in the stock 
market, and I — well, I can’t give away my 
secret, but you must own that I am fairly 
successful.” 

Frances looked puzzled. 

“ But you’re not happy,” she protested. 

This was in the first year of Alec’s devo- 
tion, and Frances saw the world through a 
rose-colored radiance. 

As she made her protest, Beatrice threw 
back her head. 

Happy ! Dear, is any woman happy 
nowadays? We leave happiness for chil- 
dren, and — ” she paused, amused at the frank 
28 


i^eattjS aflame 


dismay in her friend’s face — and to those 
dear little women who never grow up,” 
she concluded, smiling affectionately at 
Frances. 

Beatrice dazzled the simpler woman, and 
yet a strong bond of affection existed between 
them. At Frances’s first hint of trouble 
Beatrice had gone to her, and had shown the 
most womanly side of her nature to her 
friend. It was true that Beatrice Harmony 
was not happy. She had married Harry 
Harmony because he was handsome and had 
attracted her girlish fancy. He had an easy 
air of good-fellowship that appealed to men 
and women alike. At heart he was selfish, 
and his marriage had disappointed him. 

Beatrice’s uncle, from whom she had ex- 
pected to inherit, assumed the matrimonial 
harness himself late in life, and was the proud 
father of twins. 

“ I’ll give your boy a million. Bee,” he 
had told his niece, but a girl you will have 
to look out for yourselves.” 

It was a girl, a frail little thing with her 
mother’s eyes, that struggled for three years 
29 


i^eat;t)S aflame 


to keep her hold on life, and finally suc- 
cumbed to a childish illness. 

And no boy came to claim the royal gift. 

‘^Your uncle is a fool, and you can tell 
him so, with my compliments ! Harmony 
blustered, when he heard of the singular pro- 
posal. 

“ Tell him yourself. I do not care to 
brave his anger. Perhaps he thinks a man 
ought to be able to provide for the feminine 
members of his family,’’ Beatrice had retorted, 
coolly. 

And, after eight years of married life, five 
of which had been spent in a struggle to keep 
up appearances, Beatrice had grown weary. 

‘‘Couldn’t we retrench a-bit, Harry ” 
she asked, when an annoying reminder of a 
bill greeted her in her morning mail. 

“ Keep down the household expenses ; 
that’s where the money goes,” was the reply. 

“ Can’t you give up two clubs ? Five is 
a large number for so young a man.” 

“That’s like a woman’s selfishness,” re- 
torted Harmony. “My clubs come under 
the head of business expenses ! ” 

30 


l^cartjs aflame 


“ Then we might dismiss the cook, and 
ril manage with the two maids. You never 
dine at home; and when I have no invitation 
out Jane can cook me a chop.*' She tried 
to speak carelessly. 

Harmony stared, incredulously. 

And when we have guests — will you 
give them chops, too ? Don't be a fool ! " 

Beatrice paled. 

Please do not forget that I am your 
wife, and as such deserving of at least a sem- 
blance of courtesy." 

Then she gathered up her letters and left 
him to finish his breakfast alone. 

Before Harmony went down town he fol- 
lowed her to the library. 

“ I say. Bee, that idea of yours isn't half- 
bad. Send away the cook, if you like, and 
when we have people in we can get outside 
help," he said, awkwardly. 

Such little incidents as these were the 
things that robbed her life of its illusions. 
Beatrice had been heart-hungry at the time 
of her marriage, and had her husband taken 
the trouble to win her affection, she would 

31 


i^eartjs aflame 


have repaid him richly. But happiness she 
had now long despaired of, and had re- 
signed herself to go her way and let him go 
his. There was no middle ground of com- 
mon interests for them to meet upon. 

Could any woman be happy with a selfish 
husband like Harmony, who always was 
sordid and sometimes brutal ? 

Beatrice sighed. Poor little Frances ! 
Would Alec’s love last? She needed a 
strong shield to protect her from the pitiless 
arrows of the world’s skilled marksmen. 


32 


CHAPTER III 


A SET OF SABLES 

Frances went abroad with her mother, 
as counseled by her best friends ; but, alas 
for her future ! Alec Dunbar followed in 
less than a month. 

Just when they were married was not gen- 
erally known, but it was not quite a year 
after the divorce that Mr. and Mrs. Dunbar 
stepped from the deck of an Atlantic liner 
to the shores of their native land. 

And then the gossip, which had barely 
subsided, broke forth afresh. 

It appeared that a social battle was immi- 
nent. People felt bound to take sides, and 
Frances’s friends groaned in spirit. She’s 
made a mess of it,” Beatrice confided to 
Alison Deyo, a tall, athletic girl who rode to 
hounds — ‘‘ and to the devil,” her guardian 
averred. The world knew her as a jolly good 
3 33 


jpeartis aflame 


fellow, and as for her faults, she admitted 
them frankly. ‘‘ I am a born gambler — 
that's in the blood — and I like a dash of 
absinthe in my cocktails — that's also in the 
blood ; but I never went back on a friend, 
and that's the hereditary trait I'm proud 
of! " she was wont to remark, and for that 
last attribute Beatrice had sought her out. 

She was gathering Frances’s friends to- 
gether. 

“ She was sure to do that, you know. Bee 1 
Francie always lost her head when it came 
to a stiffish bit ; she hasn't a true eye nor a 
steady hand; but I did think Alec Dunbar 
would have shown more sense," responded 
Alison, frankly. ‘‘ What are you going to 
do. Bee ? " 

Nothing as yet — merely treat her as if 
all this hadn't happened,” answered Bea- 
trice, with a sigh. 

‘‘ Give her the hand of good-fellowship ? 
Well, I'm with you.” 

And the day after Frances and her hus- 
band arrived at their hotel Beatrice and Ali- 
gon sent up their cards. 

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I^eartss aflame 


The meeting was constrained at first. 
Both of these visitors appeared to resent the 
presence of Alec as he came out of an inner 
room to greet them. This constraint wore 
off, however, by the time the visit came to 
an end. 

When they left, Alec took his wife ten- 
derly in his arms. ‘‘Well, little woman,” 
he said, “ it’s going to be all right. Beatrice 
Harmony is a trump ! ” Then he kissed 
her, and to his surprise found that her eyes 
were full of tears. 

But scarcely half-a-dozen of their set fol- 
lowed the example of the two leaders, and 
Beatrice, meeting Alison at a luncheon a 
week later, shook her head. 

“ You are not going to give up, are you ? ” 
demanded Alison, with scorn. 

“ Of course not ; but I see we cannot 
force things. You are unmarried, and I’m 
poor ; neither of us is strong enough,” an- 
swered Beatrice, quietly. 

“ Try Mrs. Lloyd.” 

“ She hates me.” 

“ Or Mrs. Van Alstyne,” 

35 


i^eartjS aflame 


“ She is too busy winning that siren- 
voiced tenor.” 

Well, then, Mrs. Leigh.” 

“ Oh, if I could ! At least, I can try.” 

But it was several days before she ran 
across Mrs. Leigh, and then, just as she was 
about to make her request, there was an 
interruption. 

The same afternoon she stopped in to see 
Frances. Beatrice followed the maid into 
the boudoir, where Frances, suffering from 
a headache, with black rings under her eyes, 
was lying on a couch. 

“Oh, Bee, I’m so glad you’ve come!” 
was her greeting. “ I’m so upset 1 Sit 
down, dear; I want to tell you how I’ve 
been treated. I came face to face with 
Helena Lloyd, and she pretended she didn’t 
see me. After all I did for her when she 
was having trouble with Gus Ronalds 1 Can 
you believe there could be such ingrati- 
tude ? ” Frances’s tears came readily, and 
now they coursed rapidly down her woe- 
begone countenance. 

Beatrice stooped and kissed her. 

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i^cav'ts; aflame 


“You don't have to depend on women 
like Mrs. Lloyd ; you have true friends 
who won't fail you. Now, do stop crying, 
dear ; I hate tears as much as a man does. 
Where is Alec ? " 

“ He went out after lunch ; he will be 
furious when I tell him." 

“ Don't. Take my advice, Francie, and 
don't tell Alec of the little, spiteful things 
women do to you. Tell him of the pleas- 
ant things." 

“ I shall always tell Alec everything." 
Frances's tone was defiant. 

“ Well, make an exception of slights. 
Alec is one of the best fellows in the world, 
but he is only a man, my dear, and men 
value us in proportion to the amount of 
approbation we receive. Always repeat the 
compliments to him — men like to have their 
wives admired — but don't let him suspect 
for one moment that he has made a bad 
bargain." 

Frances looked aggrieved. She rolled 
her handkerchief into a ball. “ You say very 
peculiar things. Bee," she said, petulantly. 
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i^eartjS aflame 


Beatrice smiled as one would at a spoiled 
child. ‘‘ Perhaps I do,” she returned, in- 
dulgently, “ but it irritated me to hear of 
Helena Lloyd’s foolish behavior. By the 
end of the season she will cringe to you.” 

Then you think it will come out all 
right ? Oh, Bee, sometimes I wonder if I 
have ruined Alec’s life as well as my own. 
He never says anything, but he must feel 
the slights as much as I do ! ” 

“ A man’s skin is tougher. Besides, he 
has his relaxations — his clubs, his horses. 
Don’t worry your precious head over Alec. 
As long as he has you, Francie, he won’t 
regret. It is very beautiful to see love like 
his in these matter-of-fact days,” Beatrice 
concluded, as she rose to go. 

As she left the hotel she met Alec. He 
turned and walked by her side. 

She had given up her brougham that 
Winter, along with her other feminine lux- 
uries, and she tried to persuade herself and 
others that she liked walking. Alec thanked 
her for her kindness to his wife, but she 
made light of it. 


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i^eartis aflame 


“ I am really fond of Francie, and besides, 
it would please me to make certain women 
acknowledge her existence ; it would show 
me that I have not lost all my influence.*' 
Alec Dunbar looked at her curiously. 
He noted with approval the firm, erect car- 
riage of her proud head, the elasticity of her 
step, the exquisitely fitting cloth gown, the 
faultlessly gloved hands ; but though it was 
cold she wore no furs, and he remembered 
her as formerly muffled in them. 

If you set out to accomplish anything. 
Bee, you can't fail, and I would rather have 
you for Francie’s champion than any other 
woman in New York." 

“ Thank you, Alec," she said, simply. 

“ How is Harmony getting on ?" 

So so. Millions are not made in Wall 
street nowadays." 

“ Forgive me for speaking frankly, but 
how do you manage ? " 

‘‘ Oh, we scrape along. I use the stage 
or the cable cars, unless a cab is absolutely 
necessary. 1 dress simply, and as I cannot 
afford sables I brave the cold winds, which 
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!^eat;ts5 aflame 


this year the Lord seems to temper to my 
unprotected throat. Now, Alec, are all 
your questions answered ? ” She gave a 
mocking little laugh as she finished, which 
robbed her speech of its pathos. 

‘‘ Did you see Francie's sables ? he 
asked, with apparent irrelevance. 

‘‘ Yes ; they are magnificent.” 

“ Hunter can duplicate them.” 

“ The fact does not interest me, Alec ; 
they are out of my reach.” 

“ Perhaps not. Believe me, Beatrice, I 
am very grateful for all you have done and 
are going to do for Francie,” he said, 
earnestly. 

The next day Beatrice received the set of 
sables. A card was inscribed : With the 
gratitude of Francie’s husband,” and Beatrice 
buried her face in the soft fur. 

She threw the gorgeous cape over her 
shoulders, tucked her hands into the muff, 
and stood before the mirror rapturously. 
‘‘ I must send them back, of course,” she 
concluded. Then she decided to wait until 
Harmony had seen them. 

40 



“She 


stood before the mirror rapturously/' 











i^cartjs aflame 


He looked them over critically. 

“ Crown sables, by George ! As hand- 
some as any IVe ever seen,” he announced. 

“ What shall I do with them, Harry ? ” 
asked Beatrice, tremulously. 

He stared at her a moment and then an- 
swered, roughly : 

“ Wear them. What did you suppose 
they were meant for ? ” 


41 




CHAPTER IV 


STRATEGY 

So Beatrice wore the sables. People 
stared and gossiped ; but -she kept her own 
counsel, and donned them smilingly. 

A few days later she met Alec on the 
Avenue. 

‘‘ They will keep me warm, in spite of 
the cold looks leveled at me by Mrs. Lloyd 
& Co.,** she said to him gaily. 

It can’t affect your position, can it ? ** 
he asked, anxiously. 

No, not unless society has taken ex- 
ception to my want of means, my inability 
to reciprocate for its priceless favors.** 

‘‘ A sneer doesn’t become you. Bee. I 
know you prize your position more than 
you do anything else,” he answered, 
earnestly. 


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i^cartsi aflame 


She laughed carelessly, but her eyes were 
grateful. Sympathy was as welcome to her 
as to most sensitive women. 

One word about my own affairs,’* Alec 
went on, gravely. “ Are they progressing ? ” 

‘‘ Frankly, no. You have returned too 
soon. In the end you must win; the deity 
we all worship will finally reinstate you.” 

“ The deity ? ” 

“ Mammon ; and you are so well endowed 
with this world’s goods ! ” Then she 
changed her tone. “ At present, I would 
advise a retreat. Go into the country for a 
while. At Westbury you will have Alison 
Deyo as a neighbor, and she is a power in 
the hunting set. It’s too bad Francie 
doesn’t ride ; but you can attend all the 
meets; and let Francie show herself boldly. 
This is a case in which audacity will count 
for a great deal.” 

“ I don’t like the idea of running away.” 

My dear man, that is strategy ! Per- 
haps you think I am not earning my 
sables ” 

He made a gesture of dissent. 

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I^eartjs aflame 


“ Beatrice, what has come over you ? 

Beatrice laughed. “ That is what Francie 
asks, with the same intonation of childlike 
surprise ! Do you think I believe in purely 
philanthropic motives ? 

He answered her question with another. 

‘‘ Have you found nothing but selfishness 
in the world ? ” 

“ Nothing. Ah, Alec, women are apt to 
judge all men by those who are nearest to 
them ! You know what my father is, and 
you know my husband. As for the others, 
I hear about them, but know them inti- 
mately, how can I ? If they step over the 
line of friendship, it is to make love to me, 
and, curiously enough, modern as 1 am, that 
is one of the things I object to.” 

It was characteristic of Beatrice to ignore 
the fact that Alec might object to her re- 
mark as being too personal. He glanced at 
her quickly, but her eyes met his frankly, 
and he saw that she had not meant to give 
offense. 

The following week he opened his house 
at Westbury. 


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aflame 


The jolly, fun-loving crowd there forgot 
the ugly scandal, and only remembered that 
Greytowers was the handsomest place in the 
colony and famous for its hospitality. 

Ignoring the change in mistresses, they 
accepted every invitation, and the house was, 
as of old, the rendezvous for the smartest 
set in the country. 

Alison Deyo wrote a few lines to Beatrice. 

They have taken the plunge and are 
swimming nicely, with their heads above 
water. Alec rides to the hounds, and 
Frances plays golf, and golf is a religion at 
Westbury.'* 

Beatrice bided her time. 

After she had matured a plan she went to 
see Mrs. Leigh. 

“ I like Francie Dunbar, but active parti- 
sanship is fatiguing,'’ Mrs. Leigh had said, 
when Beatrice had first approached her. Now 
she listened attentively to Beatrice’s scheme. 

Mr. Charteris shall help us,” Beatrice 
said. He is the richest unmarried man in 
New York, and his taste is perfect.” 

‘‘They say he admires you greatly, dear.” 

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aflame 


Mrs. Leigh could not refrain from this 
feminine pleasantry. She had wanted to 
attach Charteris to herself. It was the fash- 
ion for a woman to play patroness to some 
young man, and Charteris would have suited 
her ; but he had views of his own, and pre- 
ferred devotion in general to slavery in 
particular to Mrs. Leigh. 

Beatrice did not show the least sign of 
confusion, as she answered : “For that rea- 
son I think I may be able to count on his 
assistance. He usually gives one dinner, 
just before Lent, with some titled foreigner 
as guest of honor. Well, this year I pro- 
pose that the seat of honor be given to 
Frances Dunbar.’* 

Mrs. Leigh looked amused. 

“ You must be confident of your power, 
Bee ! ” 

“ Perhaps over-confident. I can only 
try.” Beatrice rose to go. “You will not 
refuse to sit at dinner with her ? ” 

“ At Paul Charteris’s table ? Oh, no. 
But tell me, frankly, why do you champion 
her cause ? ” 


47 


ipeattjs aflame 


She is my friend/* 

And friendship’s claims arc so strong ? ** 
‘‘ In this case, yes. I like Frances; she 
fits in well with my moods ; she has all the 
faith that I lack, all the ignorance I have 
lost. You know they say we women choose 
our friends as we choose our gowns, for 
their becomingness ; and I fancy we set each 
other off. Good-bye, dear Mrs. Leigh.** 


CHAPTER V 


A TETE-A-TETE 

The maid brought Paul Chatteris’s card 
to Beatrice one afternoon about five o’clock. 

She took it languidly. She was very 
tired, and she turned it over between her 
fingers, trying to make up her mind whether 
to receive him or not. 

Then she thought of Frances. 

‘‘ Very well ; show him up, Marie.” 

As the maid left the room, Beatrice 
crossed to the mirror and glanced critically 
at her reflection. 

“ I look pale and interesting, and indiffer- 
ence always attracts men like Paul Charteris ; 
but there is too much light. He may see 
the tired eyes, but he must not see the lines 
at their corners.” 

4 


49 


J^eartjs aiflame 


So she turned two of the lights low and 
drew the rose-colored shade over the read- 
ing-lamp. 

Her boudoir was simply furnished. A 
few good water-colors on the walls, a cabinet 
of curios, an inlaid mahogany desk, some odd 
tables, a couple of lamps, and perhaps half- 
a-dozen chairs. 

Beatrice resumed her seat by the fireplace 
and awaited her guest. He stood a moment 
in the doorway, gazing eagerly at her. Then 
she held out a welcoming hand. 

‘‘ Isn’t it wretched out ? ” she remarked. 

' “ Beastly ! ” he returned ; “ but it makes 
one appreciate the warmth within. Your 
room is typical of yourself,” he added, look- 
ing round with interested eyes. It was the 
first time he had been received in her den. 

Beatrice shrugged her shoulders. 

“ It’s rather meagre.” 

Its simplicity attracts,” he urged. 

Perhaps I do not like it called simple.” 

He stared into the fire before answering 
her light objection. “In its simplicity lies 
its charm. Where there is much adornment 

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i^eattiS aflame 


one wonders if it be not piled on to cover 
emptiness ; but there is something very subtle 
about the mystery that simplicity conceals,” 
he said. 

Charteris was a tall, broad-shouldered man, 
with light-brown hair, hazel eyes, a beautiful 
mouth and strong white teeth. At the first 
glance he looked barely twenty, at the second 
one might say he was thirty ; in reality, he 
was nearer forty. He was a typical man of 
the world, with a firm belief in the superiority 
of his sex. He admired all pretty women, 
and saw no reason to notice the existence of 
the others. He had been through college, 
and had spent ten years in travel, penetrating 
into the heart of Africa to shoot elephants 
and accompanying an Arctic expedition to 
gratify a thirst for unusual adventure. He 
was rich enough to indulge every caprice. 
After he had exhausted the pleasures of the 
chase he had returned to America some three 
years before. 

His arrival was the signal for a cult of 
hero-worship. 

He took it good-naturedly, being shrewd 

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i^eartjS Aflame 


enough to perceive its true value. But, 
while he was a master in the delicate art of 
flirtation — with a trick of lowering his voice 
and throwing a world of meaning into his 
eyes — he had no intention of surrendering 
his liberty ; and he skilfully evaded the traps 
set for him by match-making matrons. 

Beatrice attracted his attention from the 
first moment of their meeting, and he was 
enough of a sportsman to appreciate the pos- 
sibilities of danger and excitement in such a 
pursuit. She was called indifferent, but that 
was because her heart was undiscovered ter- 
ritory. He liked the role of explorer, so he 
began fencing skilfully, knowing that she de- 
lighted in the chase of an elusive meaning. 
She rose to the bait, as he had hoped she 
would. 

She picked up a fire-screen and held it 
before her face. “It is the subtlety of our 
sex opposed to the brute strength of yours,’' 
she replied. “ The old fable of the lion and 
the mouse.” 

“ What a simile,” he smiled, “ for a woman 
to use ! ” 


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aflame 


‘‘ Perhaps it is because mice have our very 
qualities that we shrink from them.” 

He took up the book she had been read- 
ing before his arrival. “ Ouida ! ” and he 
made no further comment. 

“ Are you surprised ? ” she asked, smiling. 

I can’t see what you have to learn from 
her.” 

“ You are not an admirer ? ” 

‘‘ I have only read ‘ Under Two Flags.’ 
I came across it in Algiers, and read it for 
local color.” 

‘‘ Then you cannot judge. This is her 
latest and her best.” Beatrice held out her 
hand for the book. As their fingers touched, 
a thrill went through his stalwart frame. 

She opened the volume as if to read a 
selection, and then changed her mind. 

“ What could you learn from a paragraph ? 
It would be like constructing a woman from 
the arch of her eyebrow,” she said conclu- 
sively. 

“ That would be a fascinating speculation. 
Read me anything ; I shall listen most at- 
tentively,” he pleaded, eagerly. 

53 


J^eartjs aflame 


“ No, it would not be fair — to the author.” 
She smiled as she laid the book on the 
table. 

There was a pause, and then Charteris 
spoke again. 

“ Mrs. Harmony, I am going to ask a 
favor. I am giving a dinner on the four- 
teenth of next month.” 

Beatrice gasped nervously. The four- 
teenth — that would be in three weeks. 

“Your annual?” she asked, lightly, to 
conceal her agitation. 

“ Yes, but I have cut the number down ; 
I shall limit it to twenty.” 

“ And the guest of honor ? ” 

“ An innovation. We have made enough 
fuss over foreigners. I propose to inaugu- 
rate a new scheme, to honor the American 
woman, to make her queen of my feast. My 
list comprises ten of the handsomest women 
in New York, and the seat at my right hand 
— may I offer it to you ? ” 

His voice vibrated with eagerness. 

“You are too good,” Beatrice murmured, 
brokenly. 


54 


l^eartjS aflame 


He drew his chair closer. Beatrice, you 
know what I think of you ! 

“ Mr. Charteris, I beg of you — ” She 
put out both hands. 

“ Beatrice, you are cruel. Will you keep 
up this farce of indifference forever ? ” 

“ Stop — you must stop ! You are dis- 
pleasing me very much.” 

“ Is it ever displeasing to a woman to be 
told that she is loved ? ” 

“ I don’t know about other women, but I 
do know that you men are all alike. You 
think we can’t live without some man’s wor- 
ship. I don’t ask for love — I don’t need 
it. I have other things to compensate me 
for its absence. I shall not even urge the 
farce of my husband’s affection. He has 
mocked too openly at marriage for me to 
think you have not heard, but, I repeat, I 
am content with my life as it is. Do you 
think you are the only man that has first 
pitied and then persecuted me ? ” 

Beatrice forgot Frances in her scorn. 
Stung by her words, he sprang to his feet. 
“ If I could believe you — believe that it is 
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really indifference to all men, and not a 
mask to cloak your preference for one ! he 
exclaimed, bitterly. 

Beatrice raised her eyes to his angry face, 
and a maddening smile swept across her lips. 

‘‘ Does it amuse you to insult me like 
this ? — for, I assure you, it does not amuse 
me,’* she said, slowly. 

“ Bee, forgive me ; I was mad! ” 

“ Mrs, Harmony to you, now and at all 
times.” 

“ Then I am hopelessly disgraced ? ” 

‘‘ I fear so.” 

He began pacing up and down the room. 

“ Would you object to resuming your 
seat ? You make me nervous.” 

He paused in front of her. 

“ Will nothing ever move you? Why 
have you the power to torture me ? My 
God 1 sometimes I feel as if I could kill you.” 

Beatrice shrugged her shoulders. 

“ That is because you insist upon credit- 
ing me with motives I do not possess. You 
cannot touch my heart, because I have none. 
That sounds trite, but I mean that I have no 
56 


l^cartss aflame 


feeling, no emotion, no — love. When you 
indulge in heroics, you bore me.” 

He turned from her with a muttered im- 
precation. 

‘‘ Some day I shall force you into a show 
of feeling ! ” he said, desperately. 

“ Do you think I should hate you for 
that ? Ah, do not be angry with me ! There, 
I am sorry I have tormented you. Come, 
let us be friends again.” Beatrice’s smile 
was very winning, and her voice was singu- 
larly sweet. 

Your friendship — I have not lost that?” 
he asked, bewildered by her sudden change 
of tone. 

‘‘ Do you care for it very much ? ” 

“ There is nothing that I would rather 
have, . . . except your love.” 

“ Perhaps, some day, I shall ask for a 
proof of your devotion.” 

“ I shall not fail you.” 

She motioned to a chair near hers, and he 
seated himself obediently. 

“ I am curious about your list. Ten of 
the handsomest women in New York! 
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I^eartss aflame 


Whom have you chosen to be my satel- 
lites ? she asked, with mock earnestness. 

‘‘ Mrs. Van Alstyne 

“ Tall, fair, superbly gowned. Yes, she 
will do.” Beatrice was critical. 

“ — Mrs. Ashton ” 

‘‘ Dark beauty of a gypsy type. Seat 
them near each other ; they will contrast 
well.” 

“ — Mrs. Deyo ” 

“ I prefer Alison ; she is more attractive 
than her sister-in-law, but I presume you 
bar unmarried women.” 

— Mrs. Lloyd ” 

“ Do you include Mrs. Lloyd in your 
list of beauties ? She and Mrs. Van will 
quarrel over De Lara — they always do — 
and wrangles disturb my dinner. Who 
else .? ” 

“ — Mrs. Parthington, Mrs. Bryce, Mrs. 
Van Tassel Smyth, Mrs. Hunt and Mrs. 
Leigh. To me Mrs. Leigh has more than 
mere beauty ; she has charm and tact — all 
that makes a woman admirable.” 

“ I like Mrs. Leigh, too ; she is whole- 
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i|ieat:tsi aflame 


some. She doesn’t pretend to be what she 
is not.” 

“ She has no need of pretense. She is 
what she is.” 

“You misunderstand me; I mean she 
does not gush.” 

“ Mrs. Lloyd makes up for her in that 
regard, and they always travel together.” 

“ Yes, they complement each other.” 

“ Is my list satisfactory ? ” 

Beatrice half-closed her eyes and stared 
into the fire. 

“ And if I found one name lacking ? ” she 
said, finally. 

“ Whose ? ” 

“ When do the invitations go out ? ” 

“ Next week.” 

“ Let me think it over until Friday ; 
perhaps I can win you to my way of think- 
ing.” 

“ I am already won,” he protested, 
eagerly. 

“ No, not now, not to-day.” 

He rose to go. 

“I shall see you to-night?” She had 
S9 


f cavts{ aaame 


also risen, and she held out her hand with a 
charming gesture of friendliness. 

‘‘ I presume so.” 

“ I may have a dance ? ” 

‘‘ If you are good, two. Don't thank 
me ; your step suits mine, and I would sit 
out a waltz rather than dance it with an in- 
ferior partner.” 

“You require perfection,” he murmured, 
meaningly. 

“In a dance, yes,” she replied, with a 
graceful gesture and a look that might mean 
little or much. 


6o 


CHAPTER VI 


THE INCIDENT WITH CAPRICE 

During the interval between Tuesday 
and Friday Charteris lived in a state of sus- 
pense. Though he had never expected to 
win Beatrice Harmony easily, he realized 
now that there was a possibility of eventual 
failure. Women had spoiled him, and he 
had come to believe that he conferred a 
favor in asking for their love. He was a 
power socially, both on account of his family 
and his immense wealth ; and this was the 
first time that a woman had proved wholly 
unresponsive to his efforts to win her re- 
gard. 

‘‘ Sometimes I think women have abso- 
lutely no attributes in common,” he said, 
moodily, to Burton Edwards the day after 
his last encounter with Beatrice. 

“ There is certainly no universal guide to 

6i 


i^earts! Aflame 


the feminine affections. Stumped again, 
Charteris ? ” 

“ Each one is queerer than the others,'* 
was the response. 

Burton Edwards was a clean-shaven, 
muscular man about thirty-five, with an in- 
ternational reputation as a yachtsman and a 
wholesome dread of matrimony. “ Why 
can't the women let us alone ? " he would 
grumble. I haven't a million, nor even 
half a one ; and it's as much as I can do to 
support myself, without adding a wife to my 
burden. With you it's different, Charteris ; 
you wouldn't feel the expense of a harem ! " 

Charteris laughed at such expressions. 
They were confidential friends, and Edwards 
had not been slow to see that Charteris's af- 
fair was not progressing favorably. 

“ If I weren't stumped I wouldn't be 
philosophizing," he returned, impatiently. 

“ Perhaps she really is invulnerable," Ed- 
wards suggested, with a hint of irony. 

‘‘No woman is bullet proof." 

“ Get silver bullets. They strike home 
in some cases." 


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^^eattsi aflame 


“ Insinuating that she is a protegee of His 
Satanic Majesty ? That’s chivalrous 1 ” 

‘‘ Is your conduct irreproachable ? Why 
pursue your quarry so relentlessly ? There 
are plenty willing enough to listen to you.” 

‘‘ I want her.” 

‘‘ Well, my boy, I wish you luck. Good- 
bye,” and Edwards went out, humming. 

Charteris threw himself into an armchair 
to think. After all, it was rather despicable 
of him to persecute her with his attentions. 
She stood securely on her pedestal, a statue 
of purity, and he sought to drag her down. 

That she would continue coldly indiffer- 
ent he doubted. Should he stand aside and 
watch some other man awaken the love-light 
in her eyes ? It was not in his nature to be 
so generous. He had made a cult of self, 
and he sacrificed to it. Woman’s honor 
went into the furnace along with the un- 
bridled emotions of youth. He was so rich 
that he was a law unto himself, and he lived 
in a world of which money was king. 

He dwelt on Beatrice’s wish to add a 
name to his list. She should have her wish, 

63 


J^eartjS aflame 


but he would make her feel that she was in- 
curring an obligation. Payment must be 
made, sooner or later. 

Jewels could not buy her ; position she 
had ; love she disdained. Well, there was 
one thing she desired, and needed his help 
to obtain. 

That thing she should have, but the price 
must be paid. 

He came to this conclusion slowly ; and 
the significance of it burned into his brain, 
blinding him to the cowardly aspect of his 
conduct. Nothing for nothing, was his 
creed, and he would live up to it. 

He rose, crossed over to the sideboard 
and took a long drink of whisky and 
water. Then he entered his dressing-room 
and rang for his valet. Did you send 
the order for roses, to be delivered at five 
o’clock to Mrs. Harmony ? ” he asked. 

‘‘ Yes, sir.” 

“And the bonbons for Miss Bryce ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Did a box come from Buffon’s ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 


64 


i^eartjs aaame 


‘‘ Well, ril put that in my pocket. My 
dinner coat, Watkins. If Mr. Edwards 
stops in, tell him I am dining at the club, 
and afterward may look in at the Merry- 
Go-Round.” 

‘‘ Yes, sir.” 

At the Merry-Go-Round Music Hall, La 
Caprice, one of the latest French importa- 
tions, was chanting French ditties and ele- 
vating her heels nightly. 

Charteris had promised her a horseshoe 
for luck, and as he took the case the valet 
handed him, and touched the spring, a look 
of surprise came into his face. 

Had he really ordered it as large as that ? 
It was almost too handsome for the adorn- 
ing of Caprice. How it would have glis'- 
tened among the laces of Beatrice’s corsage ! 

Thinking of it in relation to Beatrice, it 
seemed designed for her. 

‘‘ I wonder, if I sent it anonymously, 
would she keep it ? It is worth trying. As 
for Caprice, a cheque for a hundred will 
please her just as well ; and few women 
could resist this — it is worthy of royalty.” 

5 65 


i^eartjs aflame 


He snapped the case shut and put it 
away ; then he lit a cigarette and went out. 

Five men and two women gathered in 
Caprice's apartments after the show. Ca- 
price was in her dressing-room, changing her 
gown, but the door was open, and she main- 
tained her part in the general conversation. 

‘‘Are you preparing some wonderful 
toilet to-night. Caprice ? We are all starv- 
ing," cried Burton Edwards. 

“ I am going to astonish you to-night, 
messieurs," replied Caprice, in excellent 
English ; in fact, her mother was an Ameri- 
can, and Caprice herself was born in Chicago. 
“Is Charteris there ? " 

“No; he has not come. I think he is 
deserting you, ma belle." This from Gus 
Ronalds, the first husband of Helena Lloyd, 
a man-about-town, who never ceased to 
thank heaven for his escape back to bach- 
elordom. 

Laughter greeted his remark. 

Aimee and Clarisse were exultant over the 
prospect of Caprice's downfall. 

“ Much you know about it ! He is 
66 


l^eattjS aftame 


coming to-night, and he is bringing me — 
but I shall not tell you ; it is a secret. V'la 
there he comes, and here am I ! ** 

Charteris entered the door at the same mo- 
ment Caprice emerged from her dressing- 
room. 

A murmur of admiration greeted her ap- 
pearance. She was a beautiful woman, and 
to-night she appeared en grande toilette — a 
stately brocade, roses on a white ground, cut 
very decollete, and sweeping behind her in a 
long train. The dress added inches to her 
height and gave her dignity foreign to her 
usual careless abandon. 

Hail to the queen ! '* a voice cried, and 
there was a ripple of mirth over the room. 

‘‘ Perhaps you think I cannot play the 
part 1 ” exclaimed the singer. “ Wait ; you 
shall see. Paul, your hand ! Ladies and gal- 
lants all, supper ! 

The supper was delicious. The lobster 
was perfect and the wine properly cold and 
abundant. Caprice, reclining gracefully in 
her chair, pledged Charteris again and again. 

Life without love would be a supper 
6/ 


I^eartsi aflame 


without champagne ; I could not imagine 
it, could you, Paul ? ** she said, dreamily. 

‘^Neither the one nor the other,” he an- 
swered, lightly. 

“ And yet there are poor wretches . . .” 
she murmured, and held out her glass to be 
filled again. 

“ Well, at least they have love ; that costs 
nothing,” put in Ronalds, who was on the 
other side of Caprice. 

‘‘ Doesn't it, though ? Ah, mon cheVy 
it may cost you men nothing, but it costs 
us poor women — what does it not cost ? — 
our lives sometimes.” 

“And our reputations at all times,” 
added Clarisse, making a face ; “ especially 
when we fall in love with such as you, 
Gus.” 

“ So ! Well, here's to love ! ” Caprice 
sprang to her feet. “ Who will pledge me, 
Burt ? ” 

Edwards clinked glasses with her. 

“In your own words. Caprice, love is 
the champagne of life,” he said, then he 
drained his glass. 


68 


i^eavtjs aflame 


‘‘ Gus ! ** Caprice cried, holding out her 
glass to him. 

“ Love is the devil’s gift to torment hu- 
manity I ” he returned. 

A vigorous protest followed ; and then 
Caprice turned to Charteris. 

“ What have you to say of love, Paul ? ” 
she demanded, caressingly. 

“ Love ? It is the scent of a violet, the 
perfume of self-sacrifice,” he said, indolently. 
Then he started up. Who of us knows 
what love is ? But this is a good substitute 
for it,” and he kissed the full red lips that 
were raised temptingly to his. 

Caprice, flushed with wine, leaned her 
head against his shoulder. 

“ Tu m aimes ? ” she whispered, softly. 

“ Tu le saisy' he returned, with indul- 
gence. 

“ And there is no truth in what they say 
— that you are tired of me ? ” 

He touched her perfumed hair with his 
lips for answer ; but she was not satisfied. 

“ On dit that she is a mondaine and very 
beautiful.” 


69 


aflame 


Charteris frowned. 

Ah, it is true, Paul ! Caprice faced 
him with flashing eyes, then she gave a short 
laugh. “ What nonsense ! I don’t doubt 
you. Have you brought my horseshoe ? ” 
she went on. 

Charteris hoped she would not make a 
scene. The wine had begun to affect her, 
and it was apt to make her quarrelsome. 
He wished he had brought the thing ; after 
all, he had promised it, and he prided him- 
self on being a man of his word. 

“ No, Caprice, I have not ; but never 
mind, Fll send you a cheque in the morning, 
and you can select one for yourself,” he 
whispered in reply. 

Caprice drew herself up, paling under her 
paint. Then she suddenly struck him 
across the mouth with the back of her 
jeweled hand. 

Liar ! ” she said. 

The blow was a hard one, and the stones 
cut his lips and drew blood. 

No one spoke. Consternation seized on 
the other guests. Charteris touched his 
70 






-'*- 4 ? 




A TV C M- * 


‘Liar!' she said” 
















f cattjs aflame 


handkerchief to his mouth, and rose slowly 
to his feet. 

‘‘ Under the circumstances,** he said, 
smiling oddly, “ there is but one thing for 
me to do. I wish you all good-night,** 

He included Caprice in his bow, and 
made for the door. 

Burton Edwards sprang up hastily. 

“Wait, Charteris ! Tm going with you,** 
he cried, seizing his hat and coat. 

Caprice sat calmly, insolently, watching 
their departure, but when the door closed 
after them, she screamed, angrily : 

“ Go ! Go ! All of you ! Get out of 
here ! I hate you all. Paul, Paul ! ** 

Then she laid her head on the table and 
sobbed bitterly. 


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CHAPTER VII 


DIAMONDS 

Charteris's lip was swollen for two or 
three days. 

Little devil!” was his only comment on 
the affair ; and Burton Edwards, being a 
man, only nodded, and no more was said. 

Caprice wrote, making an abject apology, 
and begging him to come back. 

He crumpled the note in his hand. 

“ There is no answer,” he said to the 
waiting messenger. 

Then she appeared one morning at his 
rooms. 

Charteris was in the bath. 

“ Get rid of her, quietly if you can, but 
get rid of her,” he said to his valet, who 
looked terrified at the prospect. 

That night he went to a dance, expecting 
73 


!^catt)S aflame 


to meet Beatrice. She was in black, as 
usual, and he gave a start of surprise when 
he saw that the only ornament she wore was 
the magnificent diamond horseshoe. 

He had sent it the day before, anony- 
mously, but he had not dreamed that she 
would receive it in this fashion. 

Beatrice, as she opened the leather case, 
had not been able to repress an exclama- 
tion. Was that great, glittering thing 
meant for her ? Who could have sent it ? 

There were but three men whom she 
could regard as possibilities — Gus Ronalds, 
who had pestered her all Winter with his un- 
welcome attentions ; Alec Dunbar, who 
might have added to the bribe of sables, and 
Paul Charteris. 

If I put it aside, I may know in time ; 
but . r I wear it to-night, where I shall meet 
both Gus Ronalds and Paul, I shall know 
jnce. If neither of them betrays himself, 
it will be a proof of dear old Alec*s stupid- 
ity. I am doing what I can for Francie. 
Ah ! I hope it is not Charteris. I have a 
favor to a'ow of him, and I cannot ask favors 
74 


aflame 


of a man to whom 1 am already heavily 
indebted/’ 

She met Ronalds as she entered the ball- 
room. His eyes fell at once on the glitter- 
ing ornament at her breast. He frowned 
and bowed coldly as he passed on. 

“ It was not Gus Ronalds. He would 
not have thought of anything so subtle. 
An old superstition says it is unlucky to 
throw away a horseshoe. It must have 
been Charteris. How dared he ! ” 

It was late before she and Charteris came 
face to face ; and then the gleam in his eyes 
told her that her suspicions were correct. 

After their waltz, which was the supper 
dance, he led her away from the crowd. 

“ I will get a waiter to bring us something 
here,” he said, ushering her into an alcove 
screened by palms. 

Beatrice sank gratefully on the divan and 
closed her eyes. ■> 

When he came back he was followed by a 
waiter bearing a tray laden with delicacies. 
Charteris improvised a table, and, as they 
ate, Beatrice kept up a flow of omall talk, 
75 


i^eartjs aflame 


steering the conversation skilfully away from 
personal topics. 

After one or two rebuffs Charteris 
launched boldly into the depths. 

‘‘ You said that to-night you would sug- 
gest another name for my dinner list. Have 
you forgotten that ? 

Beatrice drew her breath sharply. 

With his diamonds on her breast she knew 
he would not refuse ; but he would interpret 
her request in his own fashion. Could she, 
even for Frances’s sake, lower her self-respect 
— win him by a trick ? No, Alec was right ; 
her pride was still paramount. 

The struggle was over, the question settled. 
To-morrow she would return the horseshoe 
and be a free woman. Perhaps she ought 
also to return the sables (it was the end of 
the season, and she could not wear them 
much longer), then Alec would understand 
that in some way she had failed him. 

She played nervously with her fan. 

“ After thinking it over, I have no sug- 
gestion to make ; your list is perfect,” she 
answered, in a low tone. 

76 


aflame 


He Stared Incredulously. 

“ You are putting me off ; you are trifling 
with me/* he said, reproachfully. 

I have no right to suggest a change.” 
She was temporizing. Mrs. Leigh would 
say she had been too sure of herself. 

“ I give you the right.** 

No, no. I will be honest with you. 
Had not something occurred, I could have 
proffered my request, but not now ; it would 
not be . . . honorable.** 

He paled a little. He did not understand. 
She wore his diamonds, but she rejected his 
aid. He would help her in spite of herself, 
he thought. Personally, he cared neither for 
Frances nor for Alec Dunbar, but if it would 
please Beatrice to see Mrs. Dunbar rein- 
stated, as he had reason to believe it would, 
then that reinstatement, in so far as it lay 
in his power to bring it about, should 
be offered as another pledge of his devo- 
tion. 

You could do nothing dishonorable, 
Mrs. Harmony,** he murmured, “ and I am 
sorry if I have offended you.** 

77 


f eartjs aflame 


“ You do not understand.” 

Perhaps 1 do. I am beginning to re- 
alize that the motif of all womankind is the 
same ; only the expression of it varies.” 

Beatrice frowned. 

You know what I would ask ? ” 

She was playing again with fire. 

He smiled as he stooped to pick up her 
fan, which had fallen unheeded to the floor. 

“ I flatter myself I am a mind-reader to 
that extent.” 

Beatrice lapsed into silence. 

This man was weaving a net around her ; 
would she be hopelessly entangled in its 
meshes ? 

She imagined herself wholly in his power, 
struggling to break the silken cords that cut 
into her conscience. 

The vision was very real, with its pre- 
science of danger. She was stricken with 
terror. 

“ Let me go! Let me go!” she cried, 
suddenly ; and then the realization of what 
her words implied overwhelmed her with 
confusion. 


78 


i^eartjs aflame 


He started as if he doubted the evidence 
of his ears. 

Let her go ! How could she divine that 
in his mind he had compassed her destruc- 
tion ; held her in a grasp from which she was 
powerless to escape ? 


79 






CHAPTER VIII 


SOME GOSSIP 

Beatrice was thoroughly exhausted when 
she reached home. Marie exclaimed in dis- 
may at her appearance. “ Madame will be 
ill if she does not take care of herself/* pro- 
tested the warm-hearted Frenchwoman. 

“ I am so tired, Marie, I should like to 
sleep forever.** 

Marie raised her eyebrows, then began 
swiftly to take off her mistress*s wraps. Bea- 
trice interrupted her. 

“ Where is the box this came in ? ** she 
asked, unfastening the horseshoe. 

Marie brought her the leather case, and 
Beatrice laid the diamonds in their bed of 
white satin. 

“ It is very beautiful, isn*t it, Marie ? It is 
worth a king*s ransom ; yes, a soul’s ran- 
som.” 

6 


8i 


i^eartjs aflame 


She held it out at arm’s length, regarding 
it speculatively. “ If I took it and wore it, 
even if I asked for another, I should not be 
doing more than several women I know. 1 
could call it a bet, a philopena, anything I 
liked ; and I don’t believe Harry would 
care,” she mused. 

Marie was brushing her hair. 

“ He understood that it was this that 
stood in the way of my request. He inti- 
mated that he would grant it if I but asked. 
Francie, I have only to smile and you will be 
able to resume your place in a world that is 
not half good enough for you. It is a ter- 
rible responsibility that is laid upon my 
shoulders. If I could care it would not be so 
bad. Perhaps my moral scruples would van- 
ish in the face of a real passion ; but I am so 
indifferent. Not even to pique Helena 
Lloyd can I summon up enthusiasm for the 
game. Francie must wait, and he must have 
his horseshoe back. It is not throwing away 
my luck — that went long ago.” 

Marie disappeared, but returned shortly, 
bearing a tray. 


82 


i^eartjs aflame 


“ Here is a cup of hot milk for Madame ; 
it will make Madame sleep, and she needs 
rest/’ 

Beatrice smiled. “You are very thought- 
ful, Marie, and I shall drink it, if only to 
please you.” 

It was late the next morning when Bea- 
trice awoke, and it was noon before she sum- 
moned up enough courage to leave her warm 
bed. She was not very strong, and the ex- 
treme lassitude that came over her at times 
would have worried her had she desired to 
cling to life. But the future, that seemed to 
portend only a repetition of the past, did not 
interest her. She was quite sincere in her 
wish to not pass her fortieth birthday. 

“ I can imagine myself thirty-nine — a few 
white hairs at my temples, incipient crows’ 
feet, that slenderness that has kept my figure 
youthful turning to angularity ; but forty — 
oh, no, I cannot imagine myself forty ! ” she 
said, one day, and her auditor did not know 
whether to laugh with her or at her. 

For Beatrice, like all pretty women, laid 
great stress upon youth ; and the knowledge 

83 


J^eartss aflame 


that some day she should be old tormented 
her. 

As she was dressing, Mrs. Leigh sent up 
her card. 

Beatrice slipped into a tea-gown to re- 
ceive her. 

“ Just getting up, Bee ? I am afraid you 
are lazy 1 '' Mrs. Leigh took in every de- 
tail of Beatrice’s hasty toilet. 

‘‘ Oh, I plead guilty to the charge,” she 
said, lightly. 

“ 1 want to congratulate you on the suc- 
cess of your scheme,” Mrs. Leigh went on. 

Beatrice looked her inquiry. 

“ Mr. Charteris told me about his dinner 
last night, and mentioned the fact that both 
Frances and Alec Dunbar were to be present.” 

“ He told you that ! When ? ” 

‘‘ Just after supper ; he left early, I be- 
lieve,” continued Mrs. Leigh. “ Did you 
notice his lip ? I heard that some woman 
struck him. Of course, it is not true, but 
the bruise is certainly a peculiar one.” Mrs. 
Leigh was frankly curious. 

“ I did not notice it,” Beatrice answered, 
84 


f eartsi aflame 


truthfully. She was dwelling on the news 
of more personal importance that Mrs. Leigh 
had communicated. He had granted her re- 
quest, then, without waiting for her to prof- 
fer it. She almost forgave him for the 
horseshoe. 

Mrs. Leigh continued : 

“ The young men of this age are so rapid ; 
their devotion is capable of being divided 
into several equal parts ; and of course Char- 
teris’s money gives him unusual opportuni- 
ties. I want to go to the Merry-Go-Round 
one night next week ; they say that La 
Caprice is really worth hearing.” 

Mrs. Ashton says she is the limit. 
Frankly, for my part, these women disgust 
me with their coarseness.” 

‘‘ They connect her name with that of 
Paul Charteris.” 

Perhaps they do. Really, I am not 
surprised ; it is scarcely a step downward 
from Carrie Ashton’s chansonettes to La 
Caprice.” 

Carrie does go pretty far.” 

It would not have been tolerated a few 
85 


f eartjs aflame 


years ago ; but to-day the battle between 
mondaine and demi-mondaine is waged with 
the same weapons. Riskiness attracts men ; 
well, the grand dame can be as risque as the 
soubrette, and, being more of a novelty from 
an aristocratic source, it gives it an added 
charm, I suppose.” 

Beatrice was vehement in her denunciation. 
Mrs. Ashton and her intimates were gaining 
a reputation as tellers of daring stories and 
singers of untranslatable French songs. 

“ So you do not care to accompany us ? 
I had selected Monday night ; a small party 
— Mrs. Van, De Lara, Charteris, Burton 
Edwards, you and I. Won’t you change 
your mind ? ” Mrs. Leigh paused. Char- 
teris was the bait — would Beatrice rise 
to it? 

‘‘ You are kind, but I am previouslv en- 
gaged for Monday.” 

“ Then I shall ask Mrs. Lloyd. I know 
better than to bring you two into close com- 
pany.” 

Beatrice patted a fold of her gown. 

‘‘ My dear Mrs. Leigh, Mrs. Lloyd’s 
86 


J^eartjs laflame 


presence, or absence, affects me in the same 
way.” 

“ Is she to be at Mr. Charteris’s dinner ? ” 
You must ask him that question.” 

The caller rose. 

I shall. I imagine it will be quite in- 
teresting,” she ventured. “ His dinners 
usually are.” 

“ And a novelty.” 

“Yes; novelty is his fad. So you really 
will not join us on Monday ? ” 

Beatrice shook her head. She accompa- 
nied her visitor to the door, talking brightly ; 
but after Mrs. Leigh had gone the smile 
faded from her face as she wondered whether 
the world was beginning to busy itself with 
her name. 

“ The world,” she said, wearily ; “ we 
speak of the world when we only mean that 
ripple of it called Society ! ” 


87 


























CHAPTER IX 


A man’s cab 

The next morning Beatrice received two 
letters, one from Frances, the other from 
Alec. Frances wrote five incoherent pages, 
the gist of which was that she had received 
Charteris’s invitation, and, while she appre- 
ciated his kindness, she quite dreaded facing 
a probable frost. At Westbury people were 
kinder, and not one had made her feel the 
delicacy of her position ; she was very well 
contented with out-of-town life, and she 
didn’t believe she cared to enter the social 
arena in New York again, but Alec thought 
she owed it to herself to claim that which 
was her due. In the end, Beatrice gleaned 
the intelligence that- Frances and her hus- 
band would come up to town the beginning 
of the week, and that Frances had ordered 
a dream of a gown to wear. 


f eartjS aflame 


Alec’s note consisted of a few lines. 

“ I know this is all your doing, Bee, and I 
cannot tell you how grateful I am. Perhaps 
some day I shall have a chance to prove my 
sincerity.” 

Beatrice shivered. A strain of mysticism 
in her nature made her dislike anything in 
the nature of a prophecy. Would she ever 
be forced to ask his help ? She hoped not. 

After putting the letter away she dressed 
carefully and drove to Brent Thomas’s studio. 
He was a clever young Englishman, the fad 
at present, and he was giving a reception to 
show his latest work, an exquisite portrait of 
Mrs. Parthington. 

Grace Parthington was a stately blonde, 
with a passion for art and for artists. She 
was in the centre of a group, beaming her 
thanks at the compliments her friends show- 
ered upon her. 

Beatrice looked at the portrait critically. 

“ How do you like it ? ” asked Charteris, 
who had made his way to her side. 

Beatrice turned slightly toward him. ‘Mf 
I were Mrs. Parthington I would not sit in 
90 


i^eat'tss aftame 


the same room with my idealized self. Un- 
fortunately, we cannot all see her through 
Brent Thomas’s eyes.” 

Then she moved away. He followed her. 

“ Sit down and let me get you a cup of 
tea,” he urged. 

“ You are always getting me something,” 
she said, with a smile. 

“ Hoping one day to chance upon the 
thing you wish.” 

Brent Thomas came up. He was anxious 
for a word of approval from Beatrice. She 
had been known to make a reputation by a 
clever phrase. 

“It is beautiful, and the arrangement of 
the drapery over the left shoulder is marvel- 
ous,” she said, kindly. 

“ But the eyes — do you like the eyes ? ” 
he demanded. 

“ The eyes are the windows of the soul, 
and Mrs. Parthington’s eyes are so small,” 
was Beatrice’s answer. 

Brent Thomas looked his bewilderment. 
He did not deal in subtleties. 

“ The expression, I mean ? ” 

91 


l^cattsi aflame 


Frankly, I find them lacking in expres- 
sion. But that is not your fault,’* she added, 
soothingly. 

Grace Parthington had been the first to 
draw Harmony into a flirtation after his mar- 
riage, and Beatrice had waited years to pay 
off the score. 

Charteris frowned as Thomas bustled oflF 
in search of fresh adulation. You know 
he will repeat that, verbatim,” he said, dep- 
recatingly. 

“ That suits me, perfectly. Ah, you do 
not know what I owe Mrs. Parthington,” 
Beatrice answered, carelessly. She had, per- 
haps, made a bitter enemy, but she cared 
little for that. “ You may get me some 
tea now,” she added. 

While he was gone Mrs. Leigh joined 
her. “All alone. Bee? Have you seen 
the portrait ? Isn’t it ridiculous ? ” 

“ Scarcely that.” 

“ Then you think it like her ? ” 

Beatrice laughed. “She may thank her 
stars she does not see herself as we see her ! ” 

Mrs. Leigh launched into another topic. 

92 


i^eartjS aflame 


“ You should have been with us last night. 
Bee. Really, Caprice is wonderful. She 
looked up at our box and sang right at us. 
It was rather embarrassing, especially as her 
song was about a girl whose lover deserts her 
for a woman of his own rank. She hunts 
him out until she finds him with her rival, 
then she kills them both. Such an exhibi- 
tion of dramatic ability deserves a better set- 
ting. I watched Mr. Charteris’s face while 
she sang, and he looked — well, queer.** 

Beatrice did not display any interest. ‘Mt 
was probably her usual performance,** she 
replied, listlessly. 

Charteris came back with the tea. ‘‘ Let 
me get you a cup, Mrs. Leigh,** he offered, 
but she stopped him with a gesture of pro- 
test. 

‘‘ Tea, Mr. Charteris, with my nerves ! I 
was just telling Mrs. Harmony how much 
we enjoyed the performance last night. I 
wanted her to go with us, but I believe the 
suggestion of Caprice shocked her.** 

Charteris frowned, and Beatrice wondered 
and looked away. 


93 


I^eartjs aaamc 


“ Scarcely that, dear Mrs. Leigh, but I 
confess I have been surfeited with cafe-chan- 
tant singers. For an artist like Guilbert I 
have the highest admiration,'* she said, 
quietly. 

“ Caprice is too daring,” Charteris admit- 
ted — he had almost said vulgar — “ and no- 
toriety is her passport to popular favor.” 
He felt it incumbent to say something. 
Silence was incriminating. 

The topic was not popular. All looked 
bored. 

“ I must be getting on,” Mrs. Leigh said, 
rising. “ Can I give you a lift. Bee ? ” 

‘‘ Thanks, I have a cab below,” Beatrice 
replied. 

Charteris drifted away, but as she was 
leaving she found him again at her side, 

“ May I put you into the carriage ? ” he 
pleaded, deferentially. 

“ If you will.” 

They went down in the elevator together 
and then as far as the vestibule. It was 
raining, and Beatrice's cab was nowhere to 
be seen. 


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f cattjj aaame 


‘‘ Go back in the hall and I will look it 
up/* said Charteris, and Beatrice felt that it 
was pleasant to have someone take an active 
interest in her affairs. Insensibly she was 
beginning to regard him with indulgence. 
Harmony treated her with such scant cour- 
tesy that she had come to depend entirely 
upon herself. 

After a few moments of waiting Charteris 
appeared in the doorway, holding an open 
umbrella over his head. Pick up your 
skirts,*^ he suggested ; “ it is pouring. I 
hope you won’t get your feet wet.** 

He led the way quickly to the curb. The 
carriage door was open. 

“ This is not my cab,’* cried Beatrice, 
drawing back. 

“ I know it ; I got this at the corner. It 
is all right, Mrs. Harmony ; please get in,” 
he urged. 

She obeyed, silently, and let him wrap the 
robe around her feet. Then he put the 
umbrella in one corner. 

“ I do hope you won’t take cold. Don’t 
bother about the man ; he will come back as 
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soon as he drives you home.” Then he 
slammed the door, and the horse started. 

Beatrice looked around. She found herself 
in a private brougham, handsomely uphol- 
stered in green leather. The rack in front 
held a card-case, a whisk broom, a flask and 
a mirror, all of gun metal. 

‘‘A man's cab,” surmised Beatrice. She 
picked up the mirror, glanced at herself first 
and tucked back one unruly lock of hair, 
then turned it over. The monogram was of 
gold — two letters, curiously entwined — 
“ P. C.” She had often seen them before. 

“ Paul Charteris — he has sent me home in 
his own brougham ! What would Helena 
Lloyd say ? . . And yet I am merely a 
victim of circumstance.” 


96 


CHAPTER X 


AT THE BAZAR 

Affairs were progressing entirely to 
Charteris’s satisfaction. True, Beatrice had 
sent back the horseshoe the day after the 
ball ; but he assured himself that he had ex- 
pected no less of her. He had, at least, had 
the pleasure of seeing it glisten on her black 
gown. 

Most women wondered why Beatrice was 
so partial to black, as it increased her ap- 
pearance of slenderness. ‘Mt makes you 
look like a shadow,” once declared Mrs. 
Ashton, frankly. 

‘‘ That is all I am, the shadow of a 
woman,” Beatrice had answered, with a 
whimsical little smile, and Carrie wrinkled 
her brows and passed on, not waiting to 
probe deeper and find the sadness that lay 
underneath Beatrice’s simple statement. 

7 97 


i^eart^ aflame 


The day after the studio tea Charteris 
dropped in at the bazar in aid of the Hos- 
pital for Crippled Children. 

Society had taken up the idea of a charity 
bazar eagerly. 

‘‘ It is quite the thing in England,” said 
Mrs. Lloyd, enthusiastically. ‘‘ I shall take 
charge of the flower booth, and sell nothing 
but American Beauties.” 

‘Hn a gown of American Beauty satin, 
yourself a queen rose ! I can see you dis- 
tinctly, Helena, charging a dollar a piece for 
your floral maids of honor,” put in Mrs. Van 
Alstyne, who had a keen sense of humor. 

The bazar was planned, organized and 
carried into eflbct the week before Lent. 

As Charteris stepped into the brilliantly 
decorated room he was surrounded by a bevy 
of young girls, who were armed with books 
and eagerly implored him to take chances on 
a pianola, an oil painting, a talking doll and 
a bag of golf sticks. 

“ Suppose I win them all ? ” he asked in 
mock dismay of the girl who was raffling the 
talking doll. 


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“No such luck, with only one chance,** 
she retorted, saucily, whereupon he promptly 
took a second chance. 

Mrs. Lloyd, who had taken Mrs. Van 
Alstyne*s hint about her gown, and who was 
radiant with conquest, for few men could re- 
sist her roses, was the next to accost him. 

“ I am almost sold out,” she cried, glee- 
fully. “ Come, Mr. Charteris, I have saved 
half a dozen of my choicest for you.*’ This 
in her sweetest manner, and accompanied by 
an eloquent glance of her dark eyes. 

“ Let me have a dozen ; the six choice 
ones could not be in better hands than yours, 
if you will permit me.** He took them from 
her and handed them back with a reciprocal 
glance of pleasure. 

She was a woman who craved admiration 
from all men, and to whom the devotion of 
one was necessary. Her second husband, 
who was nearly sixty, and a sufferer from 
gout, let her go her own way, and gave her a 
princely allowance, well knowing that she 
would do nothing to forfeit it. She had 
tried, Ujirisy^cessfully, to take De Lara away 
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from Mrs. Van Alstyne, and now she turned 
her attention to winning Charteris from Bea- 
trice Harmony. 

Shall I tie the others with ribbon ? ” she 
asked, archly. 

Do. How much extra ? ” Charteris 
was practical. 

Just what you want to give. Think of 
the poor little children who are going to be 
restored to health, or whose sufferings will be 
at least alleviated, and your generous heart 
will not lead you astray.*' 

Charteris could not repress a smile as he 
put his hand into his pocket. 

How many wooden legs will this buy ? ’* 
he asked, as he handed her five ten-dollar 
bills. 

‘‘ You are making fun of us ; but really, 
there is so little we ever think of doing for 
the poor, that in this case we ought to be 
commended, not ridiculed,’* she answered, 
with a show of offended dignity. 

Believe me, Mrs. Lloyd, I could not be 
guilty of making light of your charitable ef- 
forts,** he said, gravely. ‘‘ There is an old 

TOO 


i^eartss aflame 


saying, however, that ‘ charity begins at 
home,* and I am going to put it to the test.** 

He had just caught sight of Frances Dun- 
bar entering the room with her husband. 
Both Alec and Beatrice had insisted upon 
her appearance this afternoon. The girls 
with the chance books had seized upon Alec, 
and Frances stood alone, glancing hesita- 
tingly, almost appealingly, at the unfriendly 
faces around her. 

Mrs. Lloyd flushed under Charteris*s 
scrutiny, but she made no movement toward 
her former friend. 

“ I have made my test, and find that it 
fails, as usual,** said Charteris, with meaning 
emphasis. Then he picked up the mag- 
nificent roses, the stems of which were as 
long as his walking-stick, and moved quickly 
to Frances*s side. 

He reached her as Beatrice came from the 
other end of the room. A defiant light 
sparkled in Beatrice*s eyes, and as she saw 
Charteris hand his roses to Frances her heart 
went out to him with a throb of gratitude. 
She went back to her own stall and Alec 

lOI 


i^cartjS Slflamc 


was taken possession of by Alison Deyo, 
who, in riding habit and beaver, was pre- 
siding over a miniature racecourse, picking 
the winner of which entitled the lucky man 
to a cigar. 

Charteris talked easily and offered to es- 
cort Mrs. Dunbar around. Reassured by 
his chivalrous manner, she began to hold up 
her head and greet old acquaintances with 
something of her former dignity. 

Mrs. Leigh, who was a leading spirit in the 
bazar, and in charge of the bric-a-brac booth, 
welcomed her cordially. She had always in- 
tended to be pleasant to Frances, but in the 
whirl of a social season she had not been able 
to find time to go out of her way on her 
charitable errand. As she saw her now, 
approaching under Charteris’s escort, she 
acknowledged that Beatrice had not over- 
estimated her own power. 

“ When did you come in ? she asked. 
“ I heard of you establishing a record on 
the golf links at Westbury.’* 

“We came up Monday,’* replied Frances, 
simply. 


102 


i^eartjs aflante 


“ Are you going to make a long stay ? ’* 
“We shall probably go back after Mr. 
Charteris’s dinner. I am becoming quite 
devoted to country life.** 

“ Come, now, Mrs. Dunbar, we can*t sub- 
mit to that. You must finish the season 
out. All of our choicest spirits are trying 
to desert dear old New York,** put in Char- 
teris, who really did not care whether she 
went to Westbury or to Africa. She was 
too colorless to appeal to him, and he, with 
others, wondered at Beatrice*s championship. 
He did not know that Frances had been 
with Beatrice during her child*s last illness ; 
that, timid and shrinking as she was, she had 
found courage to face Harmony as he came 
in, decidedly the worse for liquor, and to keep 
him out of the nursery, where Beatrice sat 
watching her little girl fighting the battle be- 
tween life and death. 

For that hour of companionship she would 
have gone through fire and water to serve 
Frances. Her maternal instinct was the 
most normally developed side of Beatrice*s 


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nature ; and no one guessed how much she 
had taken to heart the child's death. 

“ Will you be at the opera to-night ? ” 
asked Mrs. Leigh, affably, beginning to 
think it was time for her to do her share. 

Frances looked pleased at the interest 
taken in her plans. 

‘‘ Yes. Mrs. Harmony is going with us ; 
I think we were fortunate in being able to 
secure a box," she answered. 

“ Then may I have the pleasure of seeing 
you afterward, for supper ? I have a table 
reserved at Sherry’s." 

‘‘ Thank you ; we shall be pleased to ac- 
cept." 

‘‘ Then it is settled. I’ll see Bee myself. 
And, Mr. Charteris, if you are not otherwise 
engaged, will you join us ? " 

“ I am afraid that is a forced invitation, 
Mrs. Leigh," he protested, laughingly. 

Not at all ; you know I am only too 
glad to have you with us." 

Mrs. Leigh still assumed an air of indul- 
gence toward him. 

“ Then I shall be only too happy to 
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come/* he replied, gallantly, and he and 
Frances moved away. 

“ Mrs. Leigh is not half bad,*’ he remarked, 
musingly. 

I have always found her charming.” 

Frances was enthusiastic. Everything had 
turned out so well. 


CHAPTER XI 


A SUPPER PARTY 

Beatrice was selling dolls. 

“ Who buys them ? and, what is more to 
the point, who gets them ? ’’ scoffed Alison 
Deyo ; there are no children in this gene- 
ration.’^ 

The dolls are sent to the hospitals, and 
babies seem to multiply under adverse con- 
ditions,” Beatrice had answered, sadly. Thus 
her dolls were of the simplest manufacture, 
and appropriately clothed. 

Charteris and Frances reached Beatrice’s 
table after a leisurely ramble through the 
rooms. 

Dolls, dolls ! Oh, how 1 wish I were a 
child again ! Nothing quite equals the in- 
terest I took in my toy children,” said Fran- 
ces, with a note of regret in her voice. 

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‘‘Not even your golf clubs, Mrs. Dunbar?’' 
demanded Charteris, very gravely. 

Frances turned to Beatrice. “ Is he ever 
serious ? " 

“ Never; but who is, nowadays ? ” Bea- 
trice returned. 

“Not Mrs. Harmony, for one,” supple- 
mented Charteris. 

“ If I were I should jar upon the sensitive 
nerves of my friends. Even this,” and her 
comprehensive glance took in the whole ba- 
zar, “ is only a farce ! Who really cares for 
the poor little crippled children ? But ba- 
zars have the stamp of fashion — all Paris 
went mad over one — so we gather a lot of 
useless articles together, ticket them with 
fancy prices, don our prettiest clothes, and 
pretend that we are doing good. I am sick 
of pretense ! ” 

Frances looked shocked at the vehemence 
of Beatrice’s remarks ; Charteris interested. 
What had roused her to this pitch of 
scorn ? 

“ Aren’t you putting it a little strong ? ” 
he asked. 

io8 


i^cartsi aflanie 


Do you think I am ? Is there one of 
us whose charitable instinct goes below the 
surface ? She raised her eyes defiantly, but 
saw only tenderness in his gaze. Perhaps 
I am wrong,” she added, more gently, but 
most of us are so contemptible ! ” Then 
she began busying herself with her wares. 

“ Someone has been annoying you,” 
Charteris whispered, as he stooped and picked 
up a rag doll. 

Beatrice shrugged her shoulders, as if dis- 
daining the suggestion that anyone had the 
power to annoy her. 

A customer approached, and her manner 
changed perceptibly. She became alert, in- 
terested, the ideal saleswoman. 

"‘Won’t you ask me to buy anything? ” 
Charteris still lingered. 

“ Do you want a doll ? ” 

“Yes, this one.” He selected an Aunt 
Dinah, made of cotton, and wearing a gor- 
geous turban. “ I will take her to preside over 
my household. I am sure she could fry 
chicken and make waffles and corn-bread. 
Doesn’t the suggestion make you hungry ? ” 
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l^eattsi aflame 


Beatrice laughed. How absurd you 
are ! she said. 

‘‘ Now, honestly,’’ said Charteris, “ lhave 
long felt the need of a woman in my home, 
and as I cannot get the one I want, this 
dolly will have to do.” 

“ Really, Mr. Charteris, why don’t you 
get married ? ” asked Frances, a little mis- 
chievously. 

Charteris looked a trifle startled for a sec- 
ond. He had half-forgotten the proximity 
of Mrs. Dunbar. 

“ I think myself 1 was cut out for domes- 
tic life. Suppose we talk it over as we go 
on ? I fear we are taking up too much of 
Mrs. Harmony’s time.” 

That night he had another opportunity of 
a few words alone with Beatrice, as they 
waited at Sherry’s for the rest of the party. 

She made some laughing comment, and 
then, changing her tone suddenly, she said : 
‘‘ I have not had an opportunity of telling 
you how pleased I was to hear that Mrs. 
Dunbar is to be added to your list of beauties. 
It was very good of you, and I am going to 

I lO 


i^cartjs aflame 


retract — there is some chanty left in the 
world/' 

‘‘ I fear I cannot claim the compliment. 
It was the outcome of a selfish wish to please 
you." 

“ Is that selfishness ? ” She was smiling, 
and he tried to interpret her smile favorably. 

“ You accept it in that spirit ? " 

She had an inspiration. “ Yes, if you will 
add to it. Make her the guest of honor." 

“ Give her your place ? " he asked, incredu- 
lously. 

‘‘It would please me more than I can say," 
she replied, earnestly. 

“ Why do you go out of your way to 
serve her ? " He was frankly curious. 

Beatrice, seeing that she had won, was 
reckless in her triumph. “ Because I am so 
fond of — Alec," she answered, audaciously. 

Mrs. Leigh’s party, which had now assem- 
bled, included Alison Deyo, Mrs. Van Als- 
tyne, De Lara, Burton Edwards and Mr. 
Leigh. Jonathan Leigh, a quiet, unobtru- 
sive little man, was as great a power in the 
financial world as his wife was in the social. 


Ill 


i^eat:t0 aflame 


He was twenty years her senior, but a firm 
friendship existed between them, and the 
only time that gossip had busied itself with 
Althea Leigh’s name her husband had come 
to her rescue, and the slander had been 
killed a-borning. From that time on, while 
Mrs. Leigh held her court openly, no indis- 
cretion was ever laid at her door. 

Beatrice was seated between De Lara and 
Alec Dunbar. 

She drank her cocktail and then turned to 
the singer, who had left his untasted. ‘‘ Do 
you fear our American concoctions ? ” she 
asked, pleasantly. 

They mystify me. But then, every- 
thing in your country does that — American 
women and American drinks,” he answered, 
in his melodious voice. He was a very 
handsome man, with close-curling dark hair, 
speaking eyes, and features that were 
almost classic. I fear their effect on my 
voice.” 

Beatrice raised her brows. “ Why don’t 
you add the climate to your black-list ? 
Singers usually rail against that.” 

II2 


i^eartss aflame 


“ When your eyes, madam, smile upon 
me, I do not need the sun of Italy.** 

“Very prettily said, only it should have 
been addressed to your other neighbor. 
Repeat it for her benefit ; I shall not tell,’* 
she said, lightly. 

“ Ah, madam ; I am told you have no 
heart.*’ 

“ Really ? ** 

“ And only one passion sways you.” 

“ Really ! ” 

“You are ambitious.” 

“ And I thought my position left nothing 
to be desired ! I fear some kind friend has 
been telling tales about me.” She was smil- 
ing sweetly, but there was irony in her eyes. 
“ You need not tell me who,” she went on ; 
“ I shall not ask you to betray confidence. 
After all, what does it matter what people 
say ? Here is the champagne. Are you 
kinder to the imprisoned laughter of the 
peasant girls of France ? ” 

“ I am patriotic, madam. I pledge you.” 
“ Pledge my ambition, rather, that I may 
succeed and be able to grind all my enemies 
8 113 


i^eavtjs SlflanTe 


under my heel.** Then, with a curt nod, 
she turned to Alec, who was paying strict 
attention to his supper. 

“ I feel like a comic opera conspirator,** 
she announced, confidently; ‘^only** — and 
she sighed — “ I do miss the jokes.** 


T14 


CHAPTER XII 


GONE UNDER 

La Caprice had invited Gus Ronalds to 
dine with her. 

Afterward, over the coffee and cigarettes, 
he listened to her denunciation of Char- 
teris. Then he volunteered the information 
she was seeking. He told her that he 
had seen a horseshoe, such as she described, 
worn at a ball recently. 

And he gave it to another woman ! 
My horseshoe that he promised me, that I 
had dreamed of! Twenty diamonds, mon 
cher Gus, clear white stones, that were pure as 
drops of water 1 He has robbed me ! Oh, 
the traitor ! ” she exclaimed in her rage. 
‘‘ Paul is mine! I will not give him up ! I 
will fight for him ! Oh, the beast ; to give 
her my horseshoe ! 

“ Are you sure it was ordered for you ? 

ns 


aflame 


Ronalds was interested. This would make 
a fine story to tell at the club. He had 
been a rival of Charteris for Caprice's favor, 
and she had chosen the richer of the two. 

‘‘ Stupid ! of course. Paul said he would 
order it at BufFon's. They know me there. 
Many diamonds have they sent me. I 
wanted to see for myself, so I took his card 
and went down. Yes, he had ordered it ; 
and, after coaxing, I had my way and they 
showed me the design. It did not suit ; it 
was not large enough ; so they altered it. 
Twenty diamonds it was to have. And then 
— then he gave it to someone else ! It is 
the handsomest horseshoe in New York. 
Oh, I will get even ! Tell me, Gus, is she 
beautiful — has she eyes more velvety than 
mine, a prettier mouth ? Ah ! she could not 
equal my shoulders ! I'll win him back — 
take him from her ! Bring him to supper 
to-morrow, Gus ; he'll come with you." 
Caprice was wheedling. 

“ I fear I have not enough influence with 
him." 

“ Try, Gus, for my sake. Oh, I'd like to 

ii6 


i^eavtsi aflame 


scratch her face, the cat, to wear my dia- 
monds ! ’’ 

Ronalds laughed. He perceived that 
Caprice regretted the loss of the diamonds 
more than the loss of her lover. He had 
ruined himself long ago, and how he man- 
aged to keep afloat puzzled those who gave 
his affairs a thought. These were few, for 
the majority had no time to waste on social 
derelicts. 

Charteris threw Caprice’s letters aside in 
disgust. Whenever he thought of her, 
his lips stung him, and he did not care to 
puzzle his brains over her misspelt scrawls. 

He met Burton Edwards at the club. 
“ Have you seen Caprice lately ^ ” he asked. 

‘‘No, I’ve had enough of her.” Edwards 
had taken up Charteris’s quarrel. 

“ I can’t seem to shake her off. She 
wrote me again to-day.” 

“ Conciliatory or threatening? ” 

“ The latter, I think ; but either tone 
would be objectionable.” 

“ She can’t make trouble, can she ? ” 

“No. I can always buy her off ; but I 


i^cattjS aflame 


don’t want to begin too soon ; those women 
are leeches.” Charteris lit a fresh cigarette. 

Edwards gave him a quizzical glance. “ I 
hear you were lucky at the bazar. What 
was it you won — a cage of monkeys ? ” 
Charteris laughed. 

“ Everything but that, Burt,” he said ; 
‘‘ a pianola, a box of cigars tied with pink 
ribbon and an alarm clock.” 

‘‘ What did you do with the things ? ” 

‘‘ Presented the pianola to Mrs. Leigh, 
who expressed a desire for it, I believe ; sent 
tne box of cigars to the Old Men’s Home, 
and gave the alarm clock to Watkins, with 
orders to call me after this at a reasonable 
hour. You should have seen his face ; 
it was a study ! ” 

And wasn’t there a French doll ? ” 

“ None of my acquaintances has a little 
girl of a suitable age for dolls, so I gave it 
to Mrs. Harmony to dispose of.” 

Is that all she got ? Charteris, you’re a 
fraud ! ” chaffed Edwards. 

Nothing of the sort ! ” protested his 
friend. 

ii8 


i^eavtjs aflame 


I hear Harmony is in a pretty bad way. 
He lost heavily in that Sugar deal yester- 
day,” began Edwards, seriously. 

Charteris was interested. 

‘‘ I lost a few thousands myself in the 
sweet stuff,” he said. 

“A few thousands? Why, Harmony’s 
losses were over fifty.” 

Charteris whistled. Will he recover ? ” 
‘‘ That is what everyone is asking. 
They’ve been scraping along on next to 
nothing for years, and Harmony stood to 
win his pile, when things went against him. 
If he’d only had your luck, Charteris ! On 
my soul, I feel sorry for the poor beggar ! 
He’s been drinking hard of late, and his 
wife doesn’t care what becomes of him.” 

She’s a darned sight too good for him ! ” 
muttered Charteris, hotly. 

Of course ; but they are mismated.” 

“ Most couples are. I wonder if I could 
be of any assistance ? ” 

“ She is too proud for that.” 

‘^She would not know. You see Har- 
mony — that’s a good fellow, Burt, — and tell 
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him we have a lot of money lying idle that 
we should be glad to have him make use 

Edwards was Charteris’s confidential man, 
and entrusted with the management of his 
enormous business interests. 

“ You mean to put Harmony on his 
feet ? ’’ Edwards had not understood that 
the offer of help was to be made to the hus- 
band, and not to the wife. 

If he will let us. Can you see him to- 
day, Burt ? 

Paul, you’re a wonder ! ” and Edwards 
looked his admiration. Assistance to the 
tune of sixty or seventy thousand dollars was 
a rare piece of generosity, even though the 
multi-millionaire would not miss such a sum. 

Charteris made a gesture of remonstrance 
and took his way to the billiard-room. 

Gus Ronalds was there. 

‘‘ Shall we try a game ? ” asked Charteris, 
affably. 

‘‘ Begad, you’re a dare-devil to challenge 
me,” returned Ronalds, as he picked up a 
cue with mock condescension and began to 
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i^eavtjS aflame 


chalk the end. By the way/' he contin- 
ued, with an assumption of ease he was far 
from feeling, “ let me give you a tip, Char- 
teris. Caprice means mischief. She claims 
that you gave some diamonds promised to 
her to another woman, and she is on the 
war-path." 

Charteris looked grave. He feared that 
Caprice would make a scene if she got the 
opportunity. 

How does she make that out ? " 

Ronalds leaned over to make a difficult 
shot before he answered. “It seems that 
she persuaded the jeweler to change the de- 
sign — used your card as a guarantee, you 
know. She's clever, eh ? And now she has 
heard that one of your set is wearing a horse- 
shoe like the one she selected." 

“ Horseshoes are very common." 

“ Yes, but not of that size ; it is the largest 
Buffon ever got up." 

He watched Charteris closely, and saw 
that he was perturbed. “ I say, why don't 
you see Caprice ? A little talk may smooth 
matters over," he suggested. 

I2I 


aflame 

‘^ril be d — d if I will,” exclaimed Char- 
teris, savagely, ‘^and if she means mischief 
ril take good care she doesn't get the chance 
to do any damage. You might tell her that 
from me. Perhaps then she will realize that 
I am in earnest.” 

Ronalds stopped to chalk his cue again. 

“ Too bad about Harmony, isn't it ? 
Some fellows have no end of bad luck.” He 
wondered whether Charteris would profit by 
Harmony's misfortune. 

“ He may get up again,” observed Char- 
teris, carelessly. 

I am afraid he is a goner this time. You 
don't do much in the Street yourself, do you, 
Charteris ? ” 

“ No, but I was caught in Sugar yester- 
day,” he admitted. 

“ Nasty uncertain thing, the stock market ! ” 
said Ronalds, with a tightening of the lips. 

“ Perhaps, but it furnishes a little excite- 
ment now and then when there's nothing 
doing.” 

At that moment Burton Edwards appeared 
in the doorway. 


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“ Charterls, I have just heard over the tele- 
phone that Harmony has failed for a hundred 
thousand ! ” he exclaimed, excitedly. 

Charteris continued his game with appar- 
ent unconcern. “ W ell, you were right, Ron- 
alds ; he has gone under. Poor devil ! Go 
on, it is your play,’* he added. 


123 












CHAPTER XIII 


THE TURNING POINT 

Meanwhile, no rumor of impending dis- 
aster had reached Beatrice’s ears. She had 
not seen Harmony for two days. He had 
come in each night after she had retired, and 
had left the house in the morning before she 
had awakened. 

On the day of the failure she had risen 
later than usual, and after her breakfast had 
gone to the dressmaker’s. She was having 
a new gown made for Paul Charteris’s dinner. 

As she left the fitting-room Mrs. Leigh 
came in. 

“ Are you in a hurry. Bee ? If not, wait 
a few moments, and I will drive you home,” 
she said, cordially. 

Her husband had told her that morning 
that nothing short of a miracle could save 
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i^eartjS aflame 


Harry Harmony, and her heart went out to 
Beatrice. That Beatrice knew nothing was 
evident at the first glance, and Mrs. Leigh 
was inspired to help the brave woman who 
had been fighting against such heavy odds 
for so long- 

Thank you, but I enjoy walking, and it 
is only a step up the Avenue,'* Beatrice re- 
turned. She hated anything that savored of 
patronage. 

‘‘ As you choose. I will see you to-night. 
Do not let anything keep you away.** 

‘‘ Indeed I won't. Good-bye," and Bea- 
trice passed on through the hall and out 
into the street. 

Mr. Harmony came in a little while ago 
and asked for Madame," Marie said, as she 
opened the door. 

Beatrice had an intuition of bad news. 
‘‘ Where is he ? " she asked. 

“ In his room, Madame." 

Beatrice stripped off her jacket hurriedly 
and unpinned her hat; she smoothed her 
hair unconsciously, and then crossed the hall 
and knocked at her husband's door. There 
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aflame 


was no answer. She turned the knob and 
went in quietly. Harmony was sitting at his 
desk, his head resting, face downward, on his 
outstretched arms. Beatrice drew near and 
paused beside him. 

Harry, Harry, what is it ? '' Her slen- 
der hand crept from his shoulder to his 
rough brown head. 

He groaned, but did not look up. 

‘‘ What is it, Harry ? Don’t keep me in 
suspense. Is it very bad ? ” She forced 
herself to speak calmly. 

Then he raised his head. His dark eyes 
burned sombrely in his white face ; he had 
grown haggard over night. A premonition 
of the truth came to Beatrice. ‘‘Are we 
ruined, Harry ? ” she whispered. 

He groaned again. “ Worse, worse ; irre- 
trievably ruined, dishonored, disgraced ! 

Beatrice dropped on her knees beside him 
and put up her arms. “ Is it so bad as that, 
Harry ? Can nothing be done ? ” she asked. 
His face worked convulsively. “I fought 
off ruin until I thought I had won. If I 
had been successful. Bee, my mind was made 
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i^eattjS aflame 


up to get out of it entirely. I stood to win 
a million.” 

And you lost ? ” 

‘‘A hundred thousand.” 

Harry ! ” 

“ Don't reproach me — I can't stand it ! 
I've ruined you, but your uncle won't let 
you suffer. He’ll look out for you. Oh, 
Bee, if we'd only had that boy 1 ” he wailed, 
with all a weak man’s protest against fate. 

“ It doesn't do any good to recall that pos- 
sibility now, and I am not reproaching you ; 
but I don't understand. How could you 
lose a hundred thousand when you never 
had so much as that ? ” she asked, frankly. 

“ That is a peculiarity of the stock market 
— that is what ruins so many of us ; gam- 
bling with amounts we never possessed ! ” 
Beatrice thought his keenness of insight 
came rather late, but she said nothing. She 
drew his head down to her shoulder ; she 
had not shown him such tenderness in years, 
and now it was more to a suffering human 
being than to her husband. 

“ I’ve thought it all out. Bee, and I'm go- 
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ing away. A steamer sails for Brazil to-mor- 
row. Perhaps I can make my way there. 1 
can speak Spanish, and there is always a 
chance for Americans in those Southern coun- 
tries. I may be able to retrieve in time,” 
he said. 

Beatrice listened incredulously. And 
what is to become of me ? ” she asked. 

“ Oh, your uncle will give you a home ! ” 
he replied, as if he had settled that question 
to his own satisfaction. Now, don’t throw 
a wet blanket over my plans ! Yesterday, 
when I knew that it was coming, I was tempt- 
ed to blow out my brains. Then I thought 
of the child, and, soi;nehow, she stayed my 
hand. I couldn’t leave you alone to face 
such a muddle.” 

“ Harry, if you go to Brazil, take me with 
you ! ” 

‘^You are crazy — you don’t know what 
you say. I may go into the interior, and a 
man is always hampered by a woman cling- 
ing to him,” he retorted, irritably. 

‘‘ So you want to cut yourself adrift? ” 

“ Temporarily.” 

9 


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Beatrice rose abruptly. Her head ached 
with conflicting emotions, but one thing stood 
out clearly ; she must not separate herself 
from her husband. That way lay moral dis- 
aster. Harry, you are deserting me 1 ** 

He faced her angrily. Had I intended 
desertion, would I have come home to-day ? 
I leave you in your uncle’s care.” 

‘‘Whether he wishes to take me in or 
not ? ” 

“You are tantalizing. What sort of a 
life would you lead in Brazil, away from the 
society in which you are so bound up — away 
from all your friends ? ” He was afraid he 
was going to have trouble with her. He now 
wished he had gone oflF secretly, as he had 
at first intended. 

“My friends ? ” Beatrice gave a short 
laugh. “ Who are my friends? Which one 
of them would remember my existence after 
a month’s absence ? Frances Dunbar would 
miss me, but that is because she has need of 
me ! ” 

Harmony seized his opportunity. “ If 
you lack friends. Bee, you have only your- 
130 





“He raised his head. His dark eyes burned sombrely in his 

white face.** 







' i 

i 


■''i 

.'•I 


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self to blame. Your tongue is too sharp. 
You should put a curb on it/’ he said, pat- 
ronizingly. 

Beatrice bit her lip. 

That unfortunate member has been the 
subject of many a reproof,” she began, bit- 
terly. Then her tone changed, as she added : 

Harry, is it quite fair to leave me behind ? 
— to subject me to the temptations that be- 
set a woman deprived of her husband’s pro- 
tection ? ” 

‘‘ See here. Bee, you know what I think 
about that. ( A woman is good, or she is 
bad. Circumstances have nothing to do 
with it, and virtue that won’t stand the test 
is pretty poor stuff.’ ^ 

‘‘ Women are not to be divided into 
two classes like that. Good women have a 
streak of the devil in them, and bad women 
a quality of the angels ; we are so mixed 
that too often we are merely creatures of 
favorable or unfavorable conditions.” Bea- 
trice spoke reflectively. She was thinking 
about her own case. Separated from Harry, 
would she ever yield to love’s allurements ? 

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Silence ensued, broken by a knock at the 
door. 

‘‘Someone at the telephone, asking for 
Mr. Harmony,’* announced Marie. 

Harry went quickly to answer it, leaving 
Beatrice standing beside the mantel-piece. 
Relieved of her husband’s presence, she 
gave full reign to her bitter thoughts. 
He would leave the country, escape his 
creditors, run away from the consequences 
of his mad folly ; and she was to stay, to 
face ruin, disgrace, dishonor ; make herself 
a pensioner on her uncle’s bounty ; learn to 
cringe to his wife, who had always been jeal- 
ous of her — she, who had been so indepen- 
dent, who had carried her head so high ! 
She thought of the meaning glances, the 
mocking words of sympathy from the lips of 
those she had flouted, the condescending 
patronage of Althea Leigh and even Frances 
Dunbar, the triumphant sneers of Helena 
Lloyd. How could she face her world if 
Harmony left her ? 

It was too much to expect of her. It was 
too much ! She had been a good wife to 
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him, and if she had failed in her duty, it 
was because he had wearied quickly of home 
life and domestic ties. Her education had 
not taught her to be strong, but a naturally 
firm character had partially supplied the 
deficiencies of early training. She had the 
making of a noble woman in her, but, as yet, 
the depths of her nature had not been 
sounded. Her life had been played out in 
the shallows, and whether she would ever 
reach to the fulness of her womanhood re- 
mained to be seen. It was a perilous turn- 
ing point in her career. Vaguely she under- 
stood her danger, and trembled before it. 


133 






j 


• ‘ » 


t 

i 



* « 


I 


< 






, * i 

i» 

I 





« 


5 








CHAPTER XIV 


RETROSPECT 

“ A MAN wants to see me at the club on 
business.*’ The expression of Harmony’s 
face was brighter. 

Is it good news, Harry ? ” Beatrice 
asked, catching the infection of hope from 
his voice. 

He laughed, mirthlessly. 

‘‘ Perhaps ; who knows Good-bye, 
Bee. Keep your courage up, and if it’s good 
news. I’ll let you know.” 

Don’t forget, Harry ; I shall wait at 
home until I hear from you. I wish you 
luck,” she said, with an attempt at cheerful- 
ness. 

‘‘ Thanks,” and he went out with a cer- 
tain jauntiness. 

Beatrice’s heart gave a throb of thankful- 

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ness. Surely he must have some substan- 
tial offer of aid in view to raise his spirits in 
that fashion, and perhaps in an hour she 
would be able to smile at her recent terror. 

She busied herself about his room, putting 
things to rights with a woman's sense of or- 
derliness, and resolutely shutting out of her 
mind thoughts of what liberty might mean. 

She had been true to him, in her own 
mocking fashion, and though she knew he 
had not been equally loyal to her, she ex- 
cused his lapses with contemptuous pity. 

“ Men are differently constituted from 
women," she reasoned, “ and why should I 
blame him for following the dictates of his 
nature ? I was born faithful to an idea ; but 
if I ever really loved, perhaps I would be 
just as weak as others. Consequently there 
is nothing to praise in my attitude." 

She examined the photographs on his 
table carelessly. Mostly of actresses, and 
mostly autographed, though she discovered 
two of Grace Parthington inscribed with old 
dates, one of Carrie Ashton, and one of An- 
gela Bryce. 


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She picked up the latter and studied its 
features. Large and dark eyes, a short, 
rather broad nose, a full, sensuous mouth, 
and a weak chin. The soft oval of the face 
was framed in masses of dark hair rippling 
down over her bare shoulders. 

So this was Harmony’s latest inamorata. 

People said the girl was mad about him. 
Poor girl! He was handsome enough to 
attract women who had not the acumen to 
penetrate the superficial, but Beatrice felt 
nothing but pity for his new victim. 

Marie announced lunch, and then Beatrice 
realized that her husband had been gone 
over an hour, and no word had come from 
him. 

“ I won’t go out this afternoon, Marie. 
You can light a fire in my room, and bring 
me up some tea about five o’clock,” she 
said, as she rose from the table. 

Settling herself comfortably with a book 
in front of the blazing logs, she did not no- 
tice how the time passed. 

A French clock on the mantel chimed the 
hour — five. Beatrice looked up with a 
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Start. Surely Harry must know something 
by this time ! Could he have forgotten his 
promise ? He must understand her anx- 
iety, and it was cruel of him to keep her in 
suspense. 

Marie brought up the tea, but Beatrice 
could not drink it. She made half-a-dozen 
trips to the hall, thinking she heard the tele- 
phone. She picked up her book impa- 
tiently, but the spell was broken and she 
read in a desultory fashion, glancing every 
few minutes at the clock. 

Another hour passed. Beatrice grew 
nervous. 

She began pacing up and down the room, 
her anger rapidly increasing. After a while 
she grew calmer. It was like Harry to 
ignore her feelings in this fashion, and she 
reseated herself in front of the fire and spec- 
ulated upon the future. 

Her childhood had been saddened by the 
harsh treatment of an overbearing governess. 
Later on she had been sent to boarding- 
school to be out of her father^s way. He 
was a widower, a typical old beau, who dyed 
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his hair, padded his coats and paid court to 
every rich woman that crossed his path. 
Left to the care of servants, Beatrice’s eyes 
were early opened to the sordid side of life, 
and she learned to undervalue the few friend- 
ships that were offered her. Her father, 
who had a modest income, begrudged every 
penny of it spent on her education, and she 
would have fared badly had not her uncle 
on her mother’s side come to her rescue. 
He defrayed her expenses, and saw that she 
was properly launched in the social world. 

“ She is pretty and comes of good stock. 
It ought not to be difficult to marry her 
off,” said her father; and Beatrice was made 
to understand that the prime object of a girl’s 
life was to marry well. 

She was nineteen when she met, and, after 
three months’ acquaintance, married Harry 
Harmony. Her father had thought it 
would sound well to circulate the rumor that 
she was her uncle’s heiress. Harry Har- 
mony, one of the fastest men in his set, 
heard the rumor, saw that the girl was 
pretty, and laid his plans accordingly. 

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When, a year after their marriage, her 
uncle announced his own matrimonial 
plans. Harmony swore that he had been 
duped. 

Beatrice, learning for the first time of her 
father's rascality and her husband’s calcula- 
tions, was overwhelmed with shame. She 
longed to hide herself from the critical eyes 
of her associates. Then her pride awoke. 

If she were poor, at least she came of an 
old family, and position was due her. To 
Harmony’s amazement, she became a leader 
— one whose adverse opinion was dreaded 
and whose favor it was thought advisable to 
win. 

No breath of scandal sullied her name ; 
she was thought to be all ambition, and lack- 
ing in those subtler feelings that too often 
prove the ruin of her sex. 

For eight years she had made a good 
fight, but now it was over, unless some friend 
of Harry should offer substantial help. And 
Beatrice dared not count on this ; it was too 
visionary. 

What did the future hold for her ? She 
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shivered as she thought of it. It was so 
barren of hope. 

She had intended going to the opera, and 
afterward to a dance. She remembered now 
that Mrs. Leigh had begged her not to let 
anything keep her away. There was a sig- 
nificance to her friend’s words and manner 
that had escaped her then, and she had an- 
swered carelessly. Mrs. Leigh must have 
known of their difiicultics while she was still 
in ignorance. 

She was in no humor for Eames as Juliette^ 
nor for the cotillion afterward at Mrs. Lloyd’s ; 
she would stay at home and meet Harry 
when he came in. It would be late, but 
then she must expect that. 

Men were all alike, all selfish. So she 
concluded from her experience, and she could 
only judge them as she had found them. 



CHAPTER XV 


“he seeks to buy me” 

It was after midnight when Harmony 
came home. 

As he fitted his latch-key in the lock Bea- 
trice flew down the stairs. She had wrought 
herself up to a nervous pitch bordering on 
hysteria. 

Harmony came in unsteadily, his hat on 
the back of his head. He looked up and 
caught sight of Beatrice’s white face. 

“ That’s all right, my dear, that’s all right,” 
he said, with a vacuous smile. 

He had been drinking, and Beatrice shrank 
despairingly against the balustrade. 

“ Waiting up for me ? That’s a good 
little wife, a most devoted wife. Give any 
man the deuce, I will, who says you’re not 
a devoted wife/’ 


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Beatrice turned wearily and mounted the 
stairs again. Her husband followed. At 
the door of his room she paused. 

I waited all day, thinking you might 
send me a message, Harry,’* she said re- 
proachfully. 

Couldn’t, my dear ; didn’t have the time ; 
most awfully busy,” he replied, nodding his 
head to her. 

‘‘ Are you coming out all right ? ” 

She could not refrain from asking this. 

“ Of course. Most extraordinary thing. 
I never knew before what a good chap he is 
— a thorough gentleman, that’s what I say.” 
« Who, Harry ? ” 

Harmony gave a cunning leer. 

Can’t tell. He said, ‘ Harry, my boy, 
women are sly dogs ’ — no, / said ^ women are 
sly dogs,’ and he said — what the devil was 
it he said ? ” 

Beatrice’s heart sank. 

‘'He said : ‘ Never, never tell a woman 
a secret — woman is so naturally generous 
she can’t keep anything, not even a secret.’ 
And I won’t tell. He’s my benefactor, the 
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only one who came to my assistance when I 
was hard pressed. He said : ‘ Harmony, 
keep this from your wife ; women don’t un- 
derstand business, and they ask so many 
questions. This is purely a business trans- 
action between gentlemen.’ ” 

His attempt at dignity would have been 
ludicrous at any other time, but at present it 
struck horror to Beatrice’s heart. There 
was no need to ask more ; she knew. It 
goaded her to desperation to hear that her 
husband had accepted help from — him. 

So it is Paul Charteris,” she said, finally. 
A look of blank amazement swept over 
Harmony’s sodden features. 

You are mistaken, my dear — on the 
wrong track altogether.” Then, with a sud- 
den anger : ‘‘You can’t trap me I I never 
mentioned his name 1 ” 

“Go to bed, Harry. We can talk this 
thing over in the morning. Good-night.” 
But Harmony made one final effort. 

“ Bee, you’re wrong ; it’s not Charteris. 
Remember, I said it’s not Charteris.” 

There was no sleep for Beatrice that night. 

10 145 


i^eartjS aflame 


Slowly Charteris's web was closing round 
her. He had stood by her side as Frances’s 
champion, he had given way to her in the 
matter of his dinner, and now he was the 
means of rescuing her husband from worse 
than bankruptcy ; and he had done these 
things for her. 

He had not asked for reward, but he would 
ask ; and she, who had accepted his help, 
would be expected to grant it. 

Was there no escape ? Surely, he could 
not be relentless. He asked for love, and 
she had none to give. He would not take 
gratitude in payment — her experience of men 
gave her no such shred of comfort. 

One avenue was still open to her. She 
could appeal to her uncle. He could right 
Harmony if he would ; and that was the only 
way out of the tangle. 

' It was barely nine o’clock the next morn- 
ing when Beatrice rang the bell of her uncle’s 
house. 

The family was at breakfast, and as she 
entered the dining-room a pretty domestic 
scene met her eyes. 


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i^eattjs saflame 


Mrs. Leslie, fully thirty years her hus- 
band’s junior, was inclined to be jealous of 
Beatrice. She envied the younger woman 
her social position, and she had done what 
she could to harden the uncle’s heart against 
the niece. She made a charming picture, 
however, in her becoming morning gown, 
seated behind the coffee urn and attending 
to the wants of the twins — sturdy little fel- 
lows just promoted to the dignity of trousers. 

William Leslie looked up over his glasses 
at Beatrice. 

Bless my soul ! Beatrice, at this hour ! ” 
he cried, rising and welcoming her in his 
hearty fashion. He had always been fond of 
his favorite sister’s child, and her marriage 
had been a great disappointment to him. 

Anne Leslie also came forward, kissed 
Beatrice, and insisted upon her taking a cup 
of coffee. 

She could not talk business before Anne 
and the children, so she discussed the opera, 
Mrs. Leigh’s dinners, Carrie Ashton’s fancy 
dress ball and the rest of the social events, 
about which Anne Leslie liked to hear. 

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Finally Mr. Leslie pushed back his chair 
and met her appealing gaze. 

Do you want to see me particularly, my 
dear ? ” he asked, kindly ; for I can scarce- 
ly believe you are making calls at this hour.” 

Can you spare a few minutes, uncle ? ” 

She followed him to the library, but when 
the door had been closed against intruders 
her courage gave way, and she sat staring 
absently at the pattern of the rug. 

I suppose you have come about that 
wretched failure of Harry’s,** began her 
uncle, gravely. 

Harry’s wife raised her eyes piteously to 
his. 

“Yes,” and she sighed softly. 

“ Well, 1 am sorry for you, Beatrice, but 
I never took much stock in your husband, 
and I am not surprised at his ending. I 
helped him once before, for your sake ; but 
I won’t do anything more for him,” he be- 
gan, firmly. “ I’ll make you an allowance 
on which you can live comfortably, but I re- 
fuse to throw good money after bad.” 

“ It’s not all Harry’s fault. My father 
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let it be very well understood that I was to 
inherit from you/' Beatrice objected. 

“Your father was a scoundrel! I beg 
your pardon, Beatrice ! " 

“ I am not defending my father." 

“ He broke his wife's heart ; and though 
he held on to her money, he refused to spend 
any of it on you." 

“ Knowing that my good uncle would 
see that I would not come to want." She 
smiled gratefully at him. 

“Neither then nor now. Here's my 
offer. Bee ! I'll give you five thousand a 
year, and if you're wise you won't let your 
precious husband know the amount." He 
held out his hand to her kindly. 

“You are very good. Uncle Will, but I 
am here to plead for Harry. You must 
listen to me. Yesterday a man offered to 
settle his deficiencies." Beatrice spoke with 
apparent effort. 

“ Bless my soul 1 I did not know a man 
in the world had so much love for Harry 
Harmony ! " Leslie was genuinely aston- 
ished. 


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“ Ah ! that is it ! It’s not for Harry he 
is doing this ; it is for Harry’s wife,” came 
the bitter answer. 

‘‘ Beatrice, how do you know ? ” 

“ A woman knows these things by 
instinct, but in this case it is pure reason. 
This man scarcely knows Harry. They be- 
long to the same clubs and meet occasion- 
ally, that is all ; but he has been very nice 
to me. Suddenly he displays the most dis- 
interested friendship for my husband — gives 
him a hundred thousand dollars. Isn’t it for 
the purpose of putting me under obligations 
and tying Harry’s hands ? ” She spoke 
sadly, as if she had lost hope of avoiding the 
threatened evil. 

‘‘ Your husband is a coward ! ” and Les- 
lie brought his clenched hand down on the 
table. 

“ Uncle, he does not know, and I cannot 
tell him. Harry is hot-tempered, and he 
would be sure to make a fuss, and my name 
would suffer,” she said, simply. 

“The man is a scoundrel ! ” Leslie went 
on, vehemently. 

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I 

\ 

[ 

Beatrice paled slightly. 

‘‘ The other man, perhaps. He seeks to 
buy me. Well, after all, most men look 
for some material advantage in their dealings 
with women ; and money is a potent factor. 
I am shocking you by speaking so openly, 
but I have no one to plead for me, and I 
must make plain to you the danger of your 
sister’s child,” she explained, trying to sub- 
due the tremor in her voice. 

‘‘ And you want me to take this man’s 
place, to throw away a hundred thousand 
dollars ? ” 

You might lose that in speculation.” 

‘‘ But here there is no risk — it is a cer- 
tainty.” 

“ I know it, but will you do this for me? ” 

Leslie dropped his head on his hand and 
thought deeply. 

‘‘ Perhaps Harmony won’t like my offer 
as well as the other. But I might as well 
tell you. Bee, that I have been thinking of 
your affairs for some time,” he said, finally. 
“ Now, I’ll settle with Harry’s creditors and 
provide an opening for him in Mexico. I 

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have some silver mines there that need at- 
tention ; he can go down and look them 
over. It will take about a year, and if they 
turn out well it will put money in his pocket 
if not, ril find him another opening. Will 
that do .? 

Beatrice choked back a sob. 

“ Can I go with him P ” she asked. 

Leslie smiled affectionately at her. 

“Are you really fond of that young 
scamp, Beatrice ? ” he demanded, indul- 
gently. “ I should say the climate wouldn't 
agree with you — you are too delicate ; but 
you and Harry can settle that between you. 
If you decide to remain here, my heart and 
my house are open to you, little woman." 

Beatrice could not speak, but she threw 
her arms around his neck and kissed him. 

Surprised at this unusual demonstration, 
he patted her cheek softly. 

“There, there, my dear, don't take on 
so," for Beatrice was crying. “ Whom 
should you go to for help if not to your 
crusty old uncle ? " 


152 


CHAPTER XVI 


CAPRICE AGAIN 

Harmony, however, flatly refused to con- 
sider the second offer. He had just come 
down to breakfast when his wife returned, 
and he was in a bad humor. 

The effect of his over-indulgence in 
liquor usually resulted in a violent headache 
the next morning. 

‘‘ Hang your ofHciousness, Bee ! A man 
can manage his own affairs best, and 1 won’t 
be under obligations to your uncle,” he said, 
irritably. 

“ You prefer to accept help from a stran- 
ger, a man who snubbed you last year ? ” 

Harmony made no reply. 

“ Oh, I know all about it,” she continued. 

Such things are talked about, you know. 
Paul Charteris deliberately struck your name 

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off the list of the reception committee at the 
club reception to the President, remarking 
that they did not want men to receive the 
President of the United States who would 
be under the table before the evening was 
over ; and now, because he offers to help 
you, you cringe to him.” Her voice vi- 
brated with scorn. 

Harmony turned white to the lips. 
‘‘ Beatrice, I have never raised my hand to 
a woman, but some day you will go too far,” 
he said, controlling himself with difficulty. 

Beatrice grew penitent. ‘‘ I am sorry I 
spoke roughly, Harry, but I am almost 
beside myself.” She tried another tack. 

Don't you realize what people will say 
when they know who has come to your 
rescue ? ” 

“ No, and I don't care. Besides, who can 
know of it ? I am not making my affairs 
public,” he answered, sullenly. 

“ Those things always come out. It 
would be more natural to accept Uncle Will's 
offer. They say Mexico is a great field for 
Americans ; and Uncle Will thinks you 

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Stand a chance of making money.” She 
tried to wheedle him, but he remained sus- 
picious. 

“If the mines were worth anything he’d 
have seen to them long ago.” 

“ How suspicious you are ! Can’t you 
understand he is doing this unselfishly — out 
of love for me ? ” 

“ And Charteris’s offer is made out of 
friendship for me.” 

“ Ah, if it only were ! ” 

“ How do you know so much about it ? ” 
he demanded, sharply. 

She drew off her gloves slowly as she re- 
plied. “ By taking a leaf out of your own 
book, and discrediting what may appear to 
be a disinterested action.” 

“ Beatrice, you are enough to drive a 
fellow to drink ! If you’ve anything against 
Charteris, out with it ; if he’s ever insulted 
you, say so ; but don’t sit there insinuating 
things ! ” he cried. 

This was her opportunity, but she let it 
pass. She could not tell Harmony as she 
had told her uncle ; he would take it differ- 

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ently ; he would declare that she imagined 
things and she could give him no proof. 
So she kept silent, while despair gradually 
numbed her senses. 

After a while she spoke again. “ So you 
refuse Uncle Wilfs offer? 

« Yes.” 

“ Wait a day and think it over. Mr. 
Charteris may repent in the morning all the 
fine promises he made over a bottle of wine. 
Don’t throw away one chance before you 
are sure of the other.” Then she left him. 

If Harmony were not to be persuaded, 
there still remained Charteris himself ; and 
the resolve to try her influence with him 
came to her suddenly. 

It was only half after ten, and she went up 
to her room to make a few changes in her 
costume. Substituting a toque for her walk- 
ing-hat, and tying on a chiffon veil, which 
she could drop over her face, she gave some 
final instructions to Marie and again left the 
house. She walked a few blocks before 
hailing a cab. To the driver she gave 
Charteris’s address. 


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She dared not stop to speculate on the 
consequences of her rash act, but for once in 
her life gave rein to pure impulse. 

Paying the man, and dismissing him at 
the door, she walked quickly into the vesti- 
bule. ‘‘ Mr. Charteris,” she said, going 
toward the elevator. 

The boy gave her a searching glance. 
She was the second woman to ask for 
Charteris that morning, and the other was 
still upstairs. This one, however, was a 
lady, he decided, and he took her up un- 
questioningly. 

As Beatrice stepped to the door and 
nervously raised the brass knocker, a 
figure glided out of the twilight of the 
hallway. 

The door opened. 

‘‘ Mr. Charteris,” murmured Beatrice, in 
an almost inarticulate whisper. 

“ Your name, madam,” Watkins de- 
manded, politely, but without moving. 
This might be an emissary of La Caprice, 
and he had just got rid of the fiery French- 
woman. 


157 


aflame 


Beatrice was silent ; she could not give 
her name. 

‘‘ I think Mr. Charteris will see me/’ she 
said, quietly. 

At that moment Caprice, who, after being 
refused admittance, had lingered in the hall, 
waiting to waylay Charteris as he came out, 
emerged from the shadow. 

If she were shut out, she would at least 
see the woman who was admitted. Doubt- 
less that woman was the recipient of the 
diamond horseshoe. 

Beatrice’s veil shrouded her features. 

Watkins, at sight of Caprice, lost all 
caution. “ Come in, madam ; come in 
quickly,” he cried ; but Caprice was ahead 
of him. 

“ If I cannot enter, neither can she 1 ” 
she cried. “ Why don’t you show your face, 
if you’re not ashamed of it ? ” 

With a cat-like spring she got between 
Beatrice and the half-open door. Beatrice 
drew back in terror. 

Caprice took in rapidly the slight, elegant 
figure, the proud poise of the head, the 
158 


f eattss aflame 


slender, gloved hands, but the face defied 
her scrutiny. 

Horror at the vulgarity of the scene gave 
Beatrice rude strength. 

Paul ! ” she cried, as, pushing Caprice 
out of her way, she flew down the inner 
hall. 

Charteris, hearing the noise, had come out 
of his smoking-room in time to hear Ca- 
price’s insulting exclamation, and paused in 
astonishment on the threshold. 

At the cry of his name, he started forward 
to protect the woman he loved. 

Go in here, while I get rid of her,” he 
whispered, pushing her into the room and 
closing the door to prevent Caprice from 
following. After a short, angry conflict, he 
came out victor, and Caprice left, van- 
quished. 

“ Now see that she does not hang around 
the house. If she lingers, call a policeman. 
I refuse to be annoyed any longer,” he 
said to Watkins, and Caprice, hearing 
him, as he intended she should, went away 
baffled. 


159 


i^eartjs aflame 


Charteris’s heart beat high with hope of 
happiness. She had come to him of her 
own accord ; she had called him by name. 
Was his dream coming true ? 


i6o 


CHAPTER XVII 


A man’s passion 

As he opened the door, Beatrice started 
from the chair in which she had been shrink- 
ing. 

‘‘ Bee, Bee ! ” he breathed, all his love for 
her surging up to his lips. 

Then he bent beside her and tried to take 
her hand. 

She had removed her veil, and her hair 
was loosened in charming disorder. Her 
eyes blazed with excitement, and her mouth 
trembled ; she put out both hands to keep 
him off, but he imprisoned them gently in 
his own. 

In the weakness following her agitation 
Beatrice felt almost incapable of resistance. 
She was so wholly in his power ; and she 
had come of her own free will. 

U i6t 


aflame 


Her involuntary use of his name had 
startled her as much as it had him. Could 
it be that her heart was beginning to re- 
spond at last ? 

She smiled faintly at the thought, and he, 
seeing the smile, felt emboldened. He 
raised her hands to his lips, and held them 
there. Then her inaction passed. 

She laughed, a little laugh that had no 
mirth in it and that struck a chill to his 
heart. 

Mr. Charteris, you will be generous, I 
know, and you will not misinterpret my 
visit,” she began, withdrawing her hands 
from his clasp. He made no effort to re- 
tain them ; he realized that she was slipping 
away from him again. “It seems as if I 
were always asking favors of you, but none 
has equaled the one I have come to ask now. 
I am almost afraid to put it into words.” 
She reseated herself, and tried to beam at 
him with her old-time friendliness. 

He stood leaning against the bookcase, 
looking down at her, his arms folded, his 
face pale. 



'As he opened tjie door, Beatrice started from the chair 
in which she had been shrinking^ 


J 



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I 


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i 

4 , 


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\ 



. > ^ . 


i^eartjs aflame 


“ Have I ever refused you anything, 
Mrs. Harmony ? In fact, it is my pleasure 
to serve you.” 

Beatrice shivered at the calmness of his 
tones ; she understood the effort he was 
making. 

‘^You give me courage. It is this : I 
want you to withdraw the offer you made to 
my husband yesterday.” 

Charteris started. Harmony had prom- 
ised faithfully to keep this matter from his 
wife. 

“ An offer I made to your husband, yes- 
terday ? ” he repeated, slowly. 

“ Ah, don’t deny it. Mr. Harmony did 
not betray you. I guessed it. You were 
the only man rich enough to aid him — who 
would aid him in such a fashion ; but we 
cannot accept.” 

“ I assure you, Mrs. Harmony, you are 
distressing yourself needlessly.” 

“ Will you deny, upon your honor, 
that you are Mr. Harmony’s benefac- 
tor ? ” 

Charteris flushed uncomfortably. 

163 


l^eartjS aflanie 


‘‘ You make too much of it ; it is a bus- 
iness affair/* he said, diffidently. 

‘‘ And if he had not been my husband, 
you would have acted with the same friend- 
liness toward him ? ’* 

“ Certainly.** 

A humorous twinkle came into Beatrice’s 
eyes. “ Really,** she objected, “ you make 
it appear as if I were inordinately vain. 
Frankly, then, I appeal to your generosity. 
My uncle is willing to help us, but he im- 
poses a condition ; Mr. Harmony must per- 
sonally superintend the working of some 
mines in Mexico. Your offer was a free gift, 
and my husband does not know there is a 
reason for his rejecting it. Ah, do not pro- 
test — do not make it more difficult for me ! 
There is only one thing left — will you with- 
draw your offer ? Say that you*ve heard of 
Mr. Leslie*s proposition, and, under the cir- 
cumstances, you recognize his prior right.** 

“It would be scarcely honorable for me 
to draw back now.** 

“ It would be less honorable for you to 
proceed. See how great my trust is in you ! 

164 


i^eartis aftarae 


I come to you confident that I will accom- 
plish my mission. Women rarely court 
defeat. Had I doubted, I would have sent 
for you ; feeling sure, I came to you.'* 
Beatrice’s voice was very winning. 

“ Bee, you tempt me. And if I give way, 
what then ? ’* His voice was low with pas- 
sion. 

“ Nothing,** Beatrice answered, with down- 
cast eyes. 

He made a despairing gesture. 

‘‘ Nothing ? ** 

Yes, I must not lead you on with false 
hopes. If I were to be won, your devotion 
might have touched me ; but I am not in 
the race. If you do this thing it will please 
me, but I cannot bribe you.** 

Charteris began to pace the room with 
quick strides. “ Why are you different from 
other women ? I feel that difference, but I 
cannot explain it. Can you? Are you 
really as heartless as you claim to be ? Is 
that the secret of your charm — the sense 
that you are not for any man’s winning ? 
Beatrice, I love you, love you as I never 

165 


i^eartjs Slflame 


knew I could love any woman. You are 
here in my rooms, you came willingly, and 
you trust to my honor. Don’t you know 
what a frail thing that is in a case like this ? 
I could take you in my arms and crush your 
life out in my embrace ! But I will not 
even touch your hand, and you know it, so 
great is your power over me. Witch — 
woman — what are you ? ” he cried, vehe- 
mently, as he paused in front of her and 
stared at her with eyes full of longing. 

“Not the former, I hope, only the latter, 
with the mystery of her sex hovering over 
her. I have been here quite half an hour ; 
will you let your man call a cab for me ? ” 
She rose, and stood facing him, with all the 
composure of a woman of the world. Her 
dread of an embarrassing scene had vanished ; 
she had triumphed 1 Ardor had entered the 
lists against honor and the dignity of woman- 
hood, and had been vanquished. 

Charteris was still pale from his recent con- 
flict of emotions ; but he realized that his 
better nature had risen to dominate him, and 
he was nearer to the understanding of love 
1 66 


i^eartjS aflame 


than he had ever been in his life before. 
A consciousness of his power for good 
dawned upon him — of the recompense of 
selfsacrifice, of silence. Something within 
him changed, as if his heart had been touched 
by a magic wand. Beatrice, divining his 
struggle and his victory, felt a pang of un- 
utterable regret. Oh, if she were but free to 
take this love, to wear it as a crown ! — what 
possibilities of happiness the very thought 
unfolded ! 

In silence he accompanied her to the door. 

‘‘No further, please,’* she said, as they 
stood in the hall together. “ I may count 
on you ? ** 

“ Always,** he answered ; then he rang 
for the elevator. 

She held out her hand, and he took it, 
courteously. 

Then she was gone, and the sense of his 
loss came over him with overwhelming sud- 
denness. 

His dream was over — over ; but the 
fragrance of it would cling to him as long as he 
lived. 


167 






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CHAPTER XVIII 


THE HORSESHOE 

When she was safe at home again Beatrice 
wondered at her boldness in going to him. 
It was unlike her to ignore conventionality. 
It would have been much simpler to have 
sent for him. In her home she would have 
been at a greater advantage. 

Yet it had pleased her for once to throw 
aside discretion, to trust to her indifference 
to protect her ; even to place herself at the 
mercy of the man of whom she wished to 
ask a great favor. And now that she had 
come out of it scathless she was glad that she 
had gone — glad that she had proved to her- 
self that one man could rise superior to op- 
portunity for self- triumph and be worthy of 
the trust reposed in him. 

The look in his eyes had told her enough ; 
i6g 


f eartsi aflame 


the break in his voice had testified to the con- 
flict required to retain his self-control. 

And, thinking it over, Beatrice exulted in 
the victory she had won over herself. Some- 
thing akin to love stirred in her breast, but 
even as she softened, the image of Caprice, a 
mad fury, rose up before her. 

“ One of the women he has loved and 
tired of. After all, he is a man, and how 
long would his love for me endure ? she 
mused, and then she sighed and trampled 
ruthlessly upon the bud that with care might 
have burst into bloom. 

The next two days were busy ones to Bea- 
trice. 

Harmony came home in a furious temper. 

Charteris is a cad ! ” he announced. 

Lucky for him the affair is one I cannot 
make public.*' 

Beatrice knit her brows anxiously. She 
hoped no rumor of the affair would get 
abroad to hurt Charteris. 

For her uncle's offer. Harmony was bare- 
ly grateful. 

He preferred to stay in New York. Mex- 
170 


aflame 


ico was a hole, and the silver mines did not 
amount to a row of pins ; he had been mak- 
ing inquiries. 

As to Beatrice’s desire to accompany him, 
he laughed at it. 

“It will be bad enough for me alone, but 
it would be simply impossible to tote you 
around. So put that idea out of your wifely 
head. Why you display so much solicitude 
for my welfare I can’t guess. But don’t 
flatter yourself I think it is to be with me 
you make your offer.” 

She was hurt by his coarseness. 

“ Very well, then, we shall say no more 
about it. For my part, I think Uncle Will 
has treated you generously ; and you do 
not deserve it at his hands,” she said, 
finally. 

The next morning Frances came in. 

It was the day of Charteris’s dinner, and 
Beatrice was nervous ; so she greeted Frances 
with more than her usual warmth. 

“ My dear, ever since I heard of your mis- 
fortune I have been trying to get up ; but 
between the dressmaker and my neuralgia 1 
171 


ipeaiptjS aflame 


have been almost crazy,” Frances began, 
apologetically. 

Beatrice looked at her curiously. Frances’s 
manner was more assured ; her voice had lost 
that plaintive tone which was almost a whine ; 
and, as she realized that she was to take her 
old place in the world, her eyes had lost their 
look of timid appeal. 

‘‘ Why should you have put yourself out, 
dear ? I am in no need of sympathy. 
Harry has failed, but what of it ? That is 
no tragedy.” 

Frances wished Beatrice wouldn’t smile in 
that horrid fashion. 

“ How queerly you take it ! If Alec 
lost his money I should break my heart 
grieving for him,” she said, with an injured 
air. 

She had come prepared to be sympathetic, 
and it annoyed her to find Beatrice in no 
mood for the tactful ministrations of a friend. 

“Alec — ah, that is different! If I had 
done as much for Harry as you did for Alec, 
I might feel his losses ; but, you see, we are 
very prosaic ; in fact, I think I rather bore 
172 


^eartjs iSflame 


Harry, and I know he bores me ; and then 
I always have my uncle to fall back on. 
Harry is going to Mexico, and I shall prob- 
ably go abroad with Mrs. Leslie and the 
twins,” Beatrice went on, continuing to tear 
up the old letters and papers which she was 
engaged in destroying. 

“ Bee, you are angry with me ! ” began 
Frances, all her assurance vanishing. 

“ Angry with you ? What put such an 
absurd idea into your head ? ” laughed Bea- 
trice. 

‘‘ Won't you stay with us while Harry is 
in Mexico ? ” 

“ Why should I ? You don't need me any 
longer, Frances. You have conquered. To- 
night you will triumph. You will prove 
again that money can work miracles. Alec's 
money and Paul Charteris's. Perhaps I 
should be a clog on your wheel now.*' 

‘‘ Bee, you are very unkind ! Don't you 
believe that 1 love you — that I want you 
with me for another reason besides the re-es- 
tablishment of my social position ? I have 
been fond of you ever since we were children. 

173 


i^eartjs 3[flame 


I looked up to you and admired you even 
then ; you were so clever ! And you seemed 
to like me in those days. Bee. Sometimes 
I believe you still care, but you distrust 
people, and you hate to display your feelings.” 
Frances spoke regretfully, and Beatrice soft- 
ened. 

Like you, Francie ? Of course I do, and 
I am interested in all that concerns you. It 
is my unfortunate disposition that prevents 
me from showing my friendship more openly,” 
she said, indulgently. 

Oh, you have given proof of your friend- 
ship, Bee. Where would I be now if you 
had not come to my assistance ? ” 

“ I could do so little. My poverty tied 
my hands. You have Mr. Charteris to 
thank for the real victory.” 

But who put it into Mr. Charteris’s 
head to take up our cause ? I can guess. 
By the way. Bee, show me the horseshoe you 
wore at Mrs. Parthington's dance. Several 
have spoken of it ; they say it is superb ! 
Who gave it to you — your uncle ? ” Frances 
was all interest. 


174 


l^eavtjS aflame 


Beatrice frowned. She threw the scraps 
she had collected into the fire before she an- 
swered. I must confess to a fault. The 
horseshoe was not mine ; it was sent to me 
by mistake, and though I returned it the 
next day I could not resist the temptation of 
wearing it that night,** she explained, calmly. 

Suppose you had lost it. Bee ! ** cried 
Frances. To whom does it belong ? ** 

“It would not be fair to tell, dear.** 

. Frances left soon after. She was going to 
lunch with Carrie Ashton. 

As she entered the drawing-room she 
heard Mrs. Ashton saying, “What a joke! 
You know, Grace, I always said no woman 
could be so austere as she pretends she is.*’ 
Then she jumped up and greeted Frances 
effusively. 

“ You must hear the latest,** she said, 
after they were seated at table. 

Mrs. Van Alstyne, who was present, 
looked up, warningly. “ 1 would not re- 
peat that if I were you, Carrie,** she said. 

“Why not? It is really too good to 
keep, isn’t it, Grace ? ” 

175 


I^eartjs 3lflarae 


Mrs. Parthington nodded. At last she 
was even with Beatrice for the remark about 
the size of her soul. 

Frances was interested. She relished a 
bit of gossip, and she had no idea of what 
was coming. 

‘‘ Well, it is quite a long story,” began 
Mrs. Ashton, with mischievous eyes. “ It 
seems that Paul Charteris had an affair with 
some music-hall artiste — what is her name, 
Grace ? ” 

“ La Caprice.” 

“ Oh, yes. Caprice of the Merry-Go- 
Round — a stunner 1 Well, he promised her 
a horseshoe, of abnormal dimensions ” 
(Frances opened her eyes at the mention of 
the horseshoe), but they quarreled, and he, 
to be revenged, gave the ornament to one of 
his other friends ; and she wore it at a ball 
recently. Isn’t that rich ? Fancy, wearing a 
trinket designed for a woman like Caprice ! 
And Beatrice Harmony to be caught like 
that ! ” Mrs. Ashton went off into a per- 
fect gale, in which Mrs. Parthington joined. 

Mrs. Van Alstyne looked grave, while 


i^eartsi Aflame 


Frances sat like one stunned. Beatrice 
wearing Paul Charteris’s diamonds 1 It was 
incredible! Then she recalled Beatrice's 
explanation. These women must listen to 
her ; they could not be left in ignorance of 
the truth. 

“ It would be funny if it were true,” she 
began, bravely. 

Carrie Ashton stared at her in amazement. 

‘‘ True ; of course it is true ! We all saw 
the horseshoe ! ” 

“ But it was not sent to Bee ; or, rather, 
she got it by mistake, and wore it for a joke ; 
then the next morning she returned it to its 
rightful owner,” explained Frances, eagerly. 

“Now, isn't that just like Beatrice Har- 
mony, to make the other woman feel un- 
comfortable 1 The poor thing will scarcely 
dare to wear it now 1 ” Mrs. Ashton was in- 
dignant. Her story was shorn of its 
piquancy. She did not doubt the truth of 
Frances's explanation ; Beatrice was noted 
for her indifference, and slander had never 
been able to fasten its teeth in her shoulder. 
But Mrs. Parthington was still skeptical. 

12 177 


I^eartis aflame 


‘‘No doubt Beatrice told you that/* she 
remarked, ungraciously. 

Frances had an inspiration. “ Just wait, 
and watch for the next appearance of the 
horseshoe ! It may come out at Mr. Char- 
teris*s dinner. The real owner may wear 
it to-night to do him honor,*’ she suggested. 

Mrs. Van Alstyne looked relieved. 
“ Of course, we might have known better 
than to expect a sensation from Beatrice. 
I don’t believe she is made of flesh and 
blood like the rest of us,” she said. 

“You will have to do better next time, 
Grace,” added Mrs. Ashton, maliciously. 
“ You are still in her debt.” 

“ Oh, am I ? ” sneered Mrs. Parthington, 
“ well, I might as well confess that I don’t 
believe a word of Frances’s story — not one 
word of it ! ” 


1/8 


CHAPTER XIX 


MRS. PARTHINGTON TALKS 

There were two diamond horseshoes, al- 
most identical with the now famous one, 
worn at Paul Charteris’s dinner. 

As Mrs. Lloyd came into the dressing- 
room, and the maid removed her wrap, Mrs. 
Ashton clutched Mrs. Parthington's arm. 

After all, Francie was right — there is the 
horseshoe ! ” she whispered, excitedly. 

Grace Parthington stared. “ It's not the 
same — it's smaller," she replied, incredu- 
lously. 

“No, it isn't, Grace. Helena has been 
trying to win Charteris all Winter, and it 
would serve Beatrice right if she had suc- 
ceeded." Then she went up to Mrs. Lloyd. 
“ Oh, Helena, what a gorgeous horseshoe ! 
It is just like Bee Harmony's, isn't it ? " 

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she said, sweetly. “ When did you get 
it? You haven’t worn it before, have 
you ? ** 

Mrs. Lloyd frowned. She would not ad- 
mit copying even an idea from the woman of 
whom she was jealous. I ordered it some 
time ago, but jewelers, like dressmakers, dis- 
appoint, and Mrs. Harmony got ahead of 
me,” she answered, carelessly. 

Mrs. Ashton exchanged a meaning glance 
with Mrs. Parthington and went into the 
next room, where she lost no time in im- 
parting the news to Frances that Helena 
Lloyd was now wearing the celebrated horse- 
shoe. 

But when, ten minutes later, Mrs. Leigh 
came in wearing a horseshoe, if anything 
larger than Mrs. Lloyd’s, three women in 
the room were puzzled. 

“ Beatrice hasn’t arrived. I’ll suspend 
judgment until she comes,” whispered Mrs. 
Ashton, on fire with excitement. 

Beatrice was the last to arrive. 

She was all in white — a soft, clinging 
gown of liberty satin, with ruffles of chiffon 
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about her feet, and a fichu effect of chiffon 
drawn low over her shoulders and knotted 
at the bust. A single American Beauty 
rose nestled in the folds of the chiffon, but 
she wore no jewels of any description. 

“Now, are you satisfied?” demanded 
Frances, triumphantly. 

Carrie Ashton laughed. It was a good 
joke on someone, but on whom ? Perhaps 
she would be able to fathom the mystery 
before the evening was over. 

Certainly the horseshoe craze had set in at 
a fortunate time for its originators. 

Charteris was talking to Mrs. Leigh, but 
at Beatrice’s entrance he made a quick move- 
ment toward her. 

She came up, holding out her hand frank- 
ly. They had not met since her memorable 
visit to his rooms. 

“ I hope I am not late, but Mr. Harmony 
leaves for Mexico to-morrow, and he needed 
my assistance until the last moment,” she 
said, in her sweet, clear tones. 

Charteris murmured something in reply, 
and then dinner was announced. He 

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offered his arm to Frances Dunbar, and two 
or three of the other women gasped. It was 
bad enough to include both of the Dunbars 
in that select circle, but to give Frances pre- 
cedence over them all seemed incredible. 

Those who had greeted her coolly began 
to regret their mistake. She was too color- 
less to excite envy ; no one took Charteris’s 
championship to mean infatuation ; they all 
understood it was caprice on his part to over- 
look the Princesse de Rennee, who was in 
town, and to exalt Frances Dunbar. 

A caprice, certainly, and not to please him- 
self. To please whom, then? 

Althea Leigh ? No. She was powerful 
enough to reinstate Frances without Char- 
teris*s aid, had she so desired. It was 
Beatrice Harmony, after all, and now she 
calmly announced her husband’s depar- 
ture for Mexico. Men like Paul Charteris 
gave nothing for nothing; and yet Beatrice 
was seated as far from her host as a round 
table would permit. He was between 
Frances, who carried her head proudly, and 
whom triumph had made almost pretty, and 
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Mrs. Leigh, upon whose breast sparkled a 
gorgeous horseshoe. 

Charteris smiled grimly as he caught sight 
of it. The original was locked up in his 
desk, and if Caprice heard of these others 
her suspicions would be averted from Bea- 
trice. He was less afraid now that he would 
have to buy her off. 

Beatrice, who had been taken into dinner 
by Alec Dunbar, was strangely exhilarated. 
Harmony’s departure would leave her free. 
She knew him too well to count upon his 
return ; it was in truth a severing of the 
matrimonial bonds, which had hung so light- 
ly on them both for many years. The farce 
of her married life was finished. Time 
would eventually free her from even the 
semblance of wifehood. 

She was to make her home with her uncle, 
and later on go abroad ; but the few weeks 
of the season that remained were her own. 

She had no fear of the unknown, and she 
welcomed the excitement that was before her 
— the struggle between Charteris’s passion 
and her own indifference. 

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There were days when she almost hoped 
that he would conquer ; the absence of love 
had made her life so empty. 

So she laughed, and talked rapidly to Alec, 
congratulating him on Frances's success, play- 
fully deprecating her part in it when he would 
attribute it all to her. 

Ah, what could I really do ? I had po- 
sition, people would talk about what I did, 
but I was not strong enough to make them 
follow me,” she confessed, with a show of hu- 
mility. 

“ You should have married money. Bee ; 
that is all you needed to make you a leader,” 
replied Dunbar, admiringly. 

“ And that is so essential. Isn't there an 
old saying, ‘ If I have not wealth, I have 
nothing ? ' ” 

“ No ; I think it reads, ‘ If I have not 
love.' ” 

‘‘ Love ? ” Beatrice grew thoughtful. 
“ Tell me honestly, Alec, if you lost Francie, 
would life be nothing to you ? ” She spoke 
so earnestly that he caught some of her 
gravity. 

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“ I could not live if I lost her now/’ he 
answered, simply. 

Beatrice sighed, then shook her head 
mournfully. 

And to think I must go through life not 
knowing what this wonder is ! ” she said. 

Alec was puzzled. He had heard the ru- 
mor of Charteris’s devotion, and, being a man 
of the world, he wondered if it could have 
lasted so long unrequited. 

Then Beatrice unfurled her fan with a 
sharp click. 

‘‘This isn’t exactly the conversation fora 
dinner, is it ? I am afraid we will bring on 
an attack of indigestion unless we change the 
subject.” She had recovered her spirits, and 
she smiled, mockingly, at his lugubrious 
countenance. “ How do you like my frock? 
Isn’t it the prettiest in the room ? ” she de- 
manded, audaciously. 

He brightened at the first touch of humor. 
This was the Beatrice he knew and liked. 

Her other neighbor was Burton Edwards, 
and next to him sat Mrs. Parthington. She 
raised her voice, always of a penetrating 

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quality. She was telling a story, and she in- 
tended that it should reach Beatrice’s ears. 
‘‘ It is a great joke on someone, but on whom ? 
That is the question. A certain rich man 
presented a lady, whose fame comes from be- 
hind the footlights, with an odd ornament of 
diamonds.” Not only Beatrice, but most of 
those at the table, were listening now. The 
singer, who has a temper, so they say, quar- 
reled with her lover, and flung the diamonds 
in his face. He, in turn, to get even, sent 
them to another woman, and I . believe she 
has started a game with them ; a sort of but- 
ton, button, who’s got the button ? ” She 
wound up with a laugh. “ Funny, isn’t it? 
A mystery to be solved — are you good at 
that sort of thing ? ” She turned and looked 
dismayed at the size of her audience. “ Oh, 
1 had no idea you were all listening ! ” she 
cried, but, meeting Beatrice’s eyes, she flashed 
defiance at her. 

Beatrice, who had grown cold during the 
recital, summoned a smile to her lips. “ We 
beg your pardon, Mrs. Parthington, but we 
could not help overhearing your words. Of 
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course, you would not wound one of us for 
the world ! But it would be strange if it 
were another case of eavesdroppers hearing 
no good of themselves,'* she drawled, as if 
she personally had no interest in the matter. 

Then she let her glance travel slowly 
around until she met Charteris's eyes, dark 
with pain and anger. 

Alec Dunbar laughed. He did not per- 
ceive the undercurrent of meaning ; he was 
only amused at the clever way in which Bea- 
trice got back at her old enemy. 

His laugh relieved the tension and broke 
an awkward silence. Too many of those 
present had seen the original horseshoe. 

That Mrs. Parthington dared to defy 
Charteris in his own house seemed audacious 
to the women who had heard the story before ; 
and to Mrs. Van Alstyne it was an unpar- 
donable breach of etiquette. So she rushed 
to Beatrice's assistance and diverted attention 
by plunging into a topic that was sure to ex- 
cite general discussion. 


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CHAPTER XX 


AFTER DINNER 

During the conversation that followed 
Beatrice regained her equanimity. 

It was too unimportant an incident to have 
upset her, she reasoned. This was not the 
first intimation she had had of Charteris’s 
former friendship for La Caprice. There 
were things like this in life, and she could 
not change them, though it offended her 
sense of nicety to have them brought to her 
notice. She preferred to ignore them, and 
now to have the knowledge forced upon her 
that Caprice disputed with her for supremacy 
in Charteris’s affections, made her voluntary 
tenderness toward him vanish. 

“ He should not have placed us in the at- 
titude of rivals ; in doing so he has lowered 
me to her level, and I thought I stood alone 
on my pedestal,” she reflected, bitterly ; and 
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then she turned with sudden fierceness and 
made some cutting remark to Burton Ed- 
wards. He felt sorry for Charteris ; it was 
all up with him in this quarter. 

The dinner drew to a close at last and 
they all adjourned to the drawing-room. 
One side of the room was banked with palms, 
forming a semicircular background for the 
artistes Charteris had employed to entertain 
his guests. 

Vaudeville in a private house, where it 
might be as broad as one desired, tickled 
society’s palate, and Carrie Ashton beamed 
with delight. 

Mr. Charteris, I’ll sing for you. I have 
a new song, one that would be worth thou- 
sands on the stage ! ” she cried, taking her 
host into a corner to unfold her scheme to 
him. 

She insisted that her appearance should be 
a surprise, and then she held a hurried con- 
sultation with Reggie Brown, her aid and 
abetter in every species of mischief. 

Beatrice sank listlessly into an armchair. 
These things wearied her beyond description. 

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Gradually Charteris made his way to her 
side. Leaning over the back of her chair, 
he asked, softly : “ Am I to have no word 
of commendation to-night ? 

Two men were singing a famous coon 
song, and while attention was centred on 
them he hoped to get a few words alone with 
Beatrice. She looked up over her shoulder, 
her face cold and unsmiling. 

‘‘Commendation? For what? For the in- 
sult I was forced to put up with ? I confess I 
almost envied that other woman, who could 
relieve her feelings by striking you,” she an- 
swered, in a voice as soft as his own. 

His eyes glowed with rage. “ Surely, Bea- 
trice, you know the story is a lie ! ” 

She waved her fan carelessly back and 
forth. “ The horseshoe I wore was not de- 
signed for her ? ” 

He made a gesture of exasperation. “ Let 
me explain,” he begged. 

“It would take too long. Besides, of 
what use are explanations between those who 
have no common bond of sympathy ? ” 

“ I love you ! ” he protested, passionately. 

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Beatrice smiled, a contemptuous widening 
of the lips, a narrowing of the eyes, but she 
vouchsafed no answer. 

“ By God ! You shall hear me ! ” He 
was losing his self-control. 

“ Why don't you shout it aloud from the 
house-tops ? I am sure the world would be 
interested ; in fact, more interested than I 
am,” she retorted, ironically, shrugging her 
shoulders, as if the last word had been said. 
Then she joined in the applause that pro- 
claimed the ending of the song. 

Charteris moved away angrily. What 
made him hunger for this woman's approval 
when he had the whole world from which to 
choose ? If she were but free to accept his 
devotion, how quickly, gladly would he give 
up his liberty for the privilege of binding 
himself to her forever ! What did her hus- 
band's departure really mean ? Would it 
resolve itself merely into one of those separa- 
tions that are so common nowadays? Or 
would she avail herself of the full privilege 
of her freedom ? He dared not speculate 
upon that possibility. 

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Carrie Ashton’s entrance created a fresh 
ripple of excitement. She was an artistic 
little thing, and from some shawls and scarfs 
of Eastern gauze that Charteris had picked 
up on his travels had fashioned a most effec- 
tive costume. A scarf draped around her 
head, one end banding her forehead and the 
other drawn up to her under lip, served as a 
sort of disguise, that for a few moments de- 
ceived her audience. Then, from behind the 
screen of palms, Reggie Brown started a 
weird accompaniment on a guitar, and the 
quaint little figure began to sing. 

Her voice was not disguised as well as her 
person, and at the end of the first verse 
Burton Edwards called out, Brava, Mrs. 
Ashton ! Brava ! ” A storm of hand- 
clapping followed. The song was about an 
Eastern girl who came to New York, and of 
the wonderful things she saw in the great city. 

Carrie bowed her thanks and started on 
her second verse. Laughable comments 
were made on the latest fads, and the doings 
of society were politely ridiculed. In the 
third verse, however, the audacious little 
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woman threw caution to the winds. The il- ■ 
lusions were veiled, but Mrs. Parthington ^ 
and Mrs. Deyo grew uncomfortable. Then i 
the bomb fell : ^ 

“ And a singer of songs is paid with a kiss, ' 

And rightly he says, ‘ What is gold to this ? ’ ” 

Mrs. Van Alstyne moved angrily in her 
chair. How did Carrie know that De Lara 
sang for her without monetary compensa- 
tion ? And then — 

“ But I like best a prince who can diamonds shower ; 

Oh, would I were loved by that prince for an hour ! i 
Why care if his fancy toward roving inclines, 

So long as his pocket controls diamond mines ? i 

For men are born fickle, 'tis only their ways, ' 

And horseshoes are lucky, so everyone says ! ” 

She disappeared, and silence ensued for at 
least a minute, then a murmur arose. • 

“ Really, Carrie Ashton goes too far,’* 
drawled Mrs. Van Tassel Smyth. 

“Too far! She was indecently impu- 
dent,” retorted Mrs. Lloyd. She wondered j 
if people were saying that after Beatrice had \ 
rejected the horseshoe she had accepted it. t 

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She quite overlooked the fact that Mrs. 
Leigh had also worn one. 

The latter had not stayed for the vaude- 
ville, as she was one of the patronesses at 
the Assembly that night, and consequently 
she had been spared an embarrassing scene. 

Charteris was dumfounded. He realized 
that Mrs. Ashton’s song, after Mrs. Par- 
thington’s story, would damage, perhaps 
irretrievably, his chance of eventual success. 
Beatrice would never make herself ridiculous, 
and she had virtually been laughed out of 
his arms. He shut his teeth to keep back 
the curses. 

Her eyes met his. All the delicate color 
had faded from her face, leaving it transpar- 
ently pale ; but she was smiling, and, try as 
he would afterward, he was unable to banish 
the memory of that smile. 

Mrs. Ashton did not appear again. She 
bade Charteris good-bye in the hall, and 
went on to the Assembly. The rest of the 
programme fell flat, and one by one the 
guests rose. They were all due some place 
or other, they explained. 

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‘‘ Will you come with us ? asked Frances, 
turning anxiously to Beatrice. 

“ Thanks, dear, but I am going home.” 

The shadows had deepened under her 
beautiful eyes, and even in the subdued light 
she looked distrait and weary. 

“ I think you'd better come,” urged 
Frances, significantly. Beatrice drew herself 
erect, coldly ; she had not reached the point 
of receiving patronage as yet. 

I am the best judge of that, Frances.” 
Her tones frightened Frances. Charteris 
escorted Beatrice to her carriage. 

You are angry, and you will not let me 
explain,” he murmured. 

‘‘ I am not angry. To acknowledge anger 
would be to confess feeling, and I assure you 
your doings are, and always have been, a 
matter of absolute indifference to me. I am 
not blaming you for the limitations of your 
nature. H ow should you understand a 
woman's sensitive pride ? You are only a 
man, after all, and when I admit that, I admit 
everything,” she said, insolently. 

Had he not been so wrought up, the 
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tremor in her voice would have undeceived 
him, but he accepted her statement, and did 
not see that she was wounding him to ease 
her own pain. 

‘‘Tell the man I am going home,’’ she 
said, as he opened the door of the brougham. 

“ Home ? Then you won’t be at the ball 
to-night ? ” he questioned, hurriedly. “ Oh, 
Bee, when shall I see you again ? ” 

“ I don’t know, I am sure. Mr. Har- 
mony leaves for Mexico to-morrow. Good- 
night.” Then she stepped in, the door 
slammed, and she was whirled away out of 
his sight. He stood looking after the car- 
riage, dazed by the pain of his inability to 
touch her heart. All that had gone before 
was child’s play, but now he was realizing 
the force and strength of a passion that drives 
men mad. 


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CHAPTER XXI 


CONCERNING CHARTERIS 

The next few days slipped by rapidly. 

Beatrice made one more ineffectual appeal 
to her husband. Let me go with you — I 
am afraid to stay in New York — alone ! 
she cried, hysterically. She was clinging now 
to the physical aspect of her married life. 

Harmony swore at her for reply, and went 
angrily out of the room. 

The parting did not cost either of them a 
pang ; they had lived separate lives for so 
long that neither could miss the other's com- 
panionship. 

Beatrice stayed a week longer in her own 
house before going to her uncle's. There 
was furniture to be sold, some of it to be 
stored, and the process of dismantling took 
time. 

She worked unceasingly, and refused to 
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spare herself ; it was only in the excitement 
of actual labor that she was able to shut out 
the memory of Charteris's dinner. She had 
dressed for it so carefully, and she had taken 
a childish delight in Marie’s extravagant 
praise. She had closed her eyes to reality, 
and had indulged in a day-dream. Well, 
she had awakened from that dream, and 
there was nothing left but scorn — scorn of 
herself, of him, of all their set. How she 
pitied the mean little souls who could take 
pleasure in such petty exhibitions of spite ! 

Poor Beatrice ! She would not acknowl- 
edge, even to herself, the bitter truth. 

Frances came in the last morning. “ Alec 
wants you to promise to dine with us to- 
night. Calve sings Marguerite^ and we have 
succeeded in getting a box,” she announced. 

Beatrice shook her head. She was put- 
ting her gowns in the trays of her trunk. 
“You are very kind, Francie, but I leave 
here to-morrow, and there is still a great 
deal to be done,” she answered, carefully 
arranging the folds of the gown she had 
worn at Charteris’s dinner. 


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“ Leave it to the servants. Surely Marie 
is competent enough to superintend it all,” 
urged Frances. 

“ Perhaps, but Marie has been staggering 
under too heavy a burden for years, and 1 
cannot add to it now.” 

‘‘ How considerate you are of your help ! 
To me, servants are machines, put there 
for my use.” 

‘‘ So they were to me when I had plenty ; 
but these last few years Marie has served 
me in a way that cannot be valued in money. 
She has been maid, waitress, cook, even, 
when she thought Jane unequal to provid- 
ing some delicacy to tempt my appetite ; 
and all for twenty-five dollars a month ! ” 

Frances grew thoughtful. “ There is 
something very winning about you. Bee, if 
you only let people get close enough to 
your real self,” she remarked, slowly, “ but, 
as a rule, at the first sign of interest, you 
say some cutting thing, and turn the would- 
be friend into an enemy.” 

‘‘ My dear little philosopher, I don’t be- 
lieve in friends.” 


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“ Bee ! ” There was a world of protest 
in Frances’s tones. 

Beatrice threw back her head defiantly. 

Honestly, friendship in the abstract is 
beautiful, but friends, my dear — they assume 
that name in self-interest.” 

“ Who has hurt you now ? ” 

Beatrice turned quickly. “ Francie, tell 
me all you have heard about that wretched 
affair of the horseshoe,” she demanded. 

Frances quailed. Oh, Bee, I would 
rather not ! ” she stammered. 

But Beatrice was relentless ; and finally 
Frances repeated the tale she had heard at 
Mrs. Ashton’s luncheon. 

‘‘ I told them what you said about its 
being sent to you by mistake, and I am sure 
they believed it. Bee,” she wound up, in 
her confusion ; “ only Grace is so spiteful ! ” 

“ The story was partly true. Yes, Paul 
Charteris sent it, thinking I might be caught 
by the glittering thing. I thought he was 
the sender, though it came anonymously ; 
and I wore it that night to make sure. The 
next day I returned it, and that closed the 
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incident for me. Further than this I know 
nothing.” Beatrice spoke proudly. She 
was not defending herself to Frances ; she 
was merely making a statement of the case. 

Then Paul Charteris is in love with you, 
and for your sake he has been so nice to us. 
He is king, socially, Bee,” said Frances, 
musingly. 

Beatrice stuffed the sleeves of a waist with 
tissue paper before she replied : I don’t 
care if he is every card in the pack, from ace 
down ! ” 

Mrs. Leigh wanted him two years ago.” 

For a platonic adorer ; she makes a cult 
of platonism.” 

‘^And Helena Lloyd is crazy about 
him.” 

Fora third husband ? Is she really tired 
of Albert Lloyd, or does she merely want to 
create a sensation by bowling over the king- 
pin ? ” Beatrice mocked. 

Don’t be sarcastic. Bee ; it sounds as if 
you were an old maid disappointed in love ; 
and he is really nice,” Frances sighed. 

‘‘ Are you also hankering after him ? 

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Well, I make you a present of him, of his 
handsome person, his devotion, his dia- 
monds ! 

Tears rose to Frances's eyes. She was 
hurt, and Beatrice was horrid this morning. 

Fortunately, the entrance of Alison Deyo 
created a diversion. 

“ Have just heard of your smash up. 
Bee," she cried, cheerfully. Then she 
glanced around at the bare walls and rugless 
floors. He didn't bolt with the furniture, 
did he ? " 

Beatrice laughed. “No ; I am moving, 
that is all, Alison," she returned. 

“ Well, pack up and come down to West- 
bury with me. The country is fine now, 
and I have a new mare that you'll go crazy 
over," said Alison, enthusiastically. 

“ Thank you, Alison, but I am going to 
stay with my uncle." 

“ Nonsense 1 You'll die of stagnation at 
that house ! " said the girl, impatiently. 

“ Alison, if Anne Leslie could only hear 
you 1 She fears you are a trifle rapid, you 
know," Beatrice said, with mock gravity. 

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“ I wanted her to come to put in 
Frances, mournfully. 

“And Mrs. Leigh offered me shelter. 
Really, you all make me feel as if I had just 
escaped the poor-house ! I am not so 
badly off. I have five thousand a year, so I 
can’t starve,” blazed Beatrice, in a burst of 
wrath. They were very good and well- 
meaning, but they irritated her by their 
mistaken kindness. 

“ Oh, if you take it that way. Bee — ” 
began Alison, stiffly. 

Then Beatrice smiled. “ Alison, Fran- 
cie — ” she held out a hand to each — “ for- 
give me ; lam tired and cross, and I don’t 
deserve to have such dear friends. Now, 
don’t urge me, girls. I am not pulling a 
bad stroke for myself when I move into my 
uncle’s house.” 

“ He could give you a million and not 
miss it ! ” 

“ Perhaps he could, Alison ; at all events 
he has been good to both Harry and me.” 

Alison changed the subject. “ I say. Bee, 
I heard about Carrie Ashton’s song the 
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Other night,” she began, displaying her curi- 
osity frankly, and I would have given a 
good deal to have seen Mrs. Van's face at 
the reference to De Lara.” 

Beatrice launched into a ridiculous de- 
scription of the affair, which made even 
Frances laugh, though she wondered how 
Beatrice could make light of such a personal 
matter. 

“ That’s the best thing I’ve heard in 
years,” commented Alison, as she drew on 
her gloves. Take care of yourself. Bee ; 
you look a bit down in the mouth. When 
you feel like paying me a visit, don’t stand 
on ceremony,” and after a hearty hug and a 
kiss Alison took her departure. 

That afternoon Frances ran across Paul 
Charteris. 

He stopped to speak to her, hoping to 
hear some news of Beatrice. 

“ I suppose you will be at the opera to- 
night, Mrs. Dunbar ? Calve as Marguerite 
will draw a crowd,” he said, casually. 

“ Oh, yes, we are going. Mr. Dunbar 
was fortunate enough to secure a box. I 
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tried to persuade Mrs. Harmony to join us, 
but she refused.” 

A previous engagement, I suppose?” 

‘‘ No ; you see, she moves to-morrow, 
and, as she is not very strong, I think she is 
tired out.” 

Charteris made some sympathetic reply 
and passed on. Frances had given him the 
opportunity he was seeking. 




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CHAPTER XXII 


LOVE, THE CONQUEROR 

Charteris was dining with Mrs. Leigh 
that night. 

‘‘Just a quartet, Paul,” she said to him 
as he entered the drawing-room. “ Mrs. 
Lloyd and Mr. Edwards are coming. You 
know 1 hate to crowd my box.” 

Charteris seized his chance. “ I almost 
feared I would be unable to get here, Mrs. 
Leigh. I have a splitting headache.” 

He made the explanation easily, and Mrs. 
Leigh smiled indulgently. 

“You young men!” and she shook her 
finger at him. “ Why don’t you reform ? 
Try it as an interesting experiment.” 

“ I might grow to like it, and my future 
would be spoiled.” 

“ No fear of that.” 

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Seriously, I do think of cutting loose 
from my old life and going away for a year 
or two. Tiger hunting often reforms a 
man.” 

She gazed at him curiously. 

“ There is more in this than meets the 
human ear,” she soliloquized. Who is to 
be your traveling companion ? ” 

Do you think I contemplate an elope- 
ment ? ” 

‘‘ Ending, possibly, in marriage ? Well, 
why not ? You could do worse.” She 
spoke reflectively. 

“ I am sure I could.” 

‘‘Tell me, Paul — ” but he interrupted 
her with a laugh. 

“ Ah, I knew I would rouse your curios- 
ity. I contemplate nothing but a glorious 
finish to the best season weVe had in 
years.” 

She rose and crossed over to where he 
sat. 

“ Don’t you trust me ? ” she asked, with 
a strange vibration in her tones. 

“ I have no secret to impart.” 

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‘‘ Really ? ’’ 

Really, Mrs. Leigh.” 

She sighed, but the entrance of Burton 
Edwards put an end to the tete-a-tete. 
Helena Lloyd followed shortly after. Her 
tall, slender figure appeared to be encased in 
a coat of mail. 

“ What is it — armor ? ” demanded Char- 
teris, with his usual audacity. 

“ Mrs. Leigh, he is making fun of my 
frock,” protested Helena Lloyd, pursing up 
her full red lips in a pout. 

“ Honestly, Mrs. Lloyd, it is beautiful, 
and I have never seen anything quite like 
it,” he cried, enthusiastically. 

“ It’s all spangles — silver spangles ; you’ve 
seen them before.” 

“In black, yes — but in silver ! Ah, it 
remained for you to don the costume of the 
queen of night. You are the moon, the 
spirit of poetry.” He looked sentimental. 

“ Paul ! ” came a warning cry from Mrs. 
Leigh. She feared that even Mrs. Lloyd’s 
vanity could not swallow such wholesome 
flattery. 


2II 


f eartjS aftame 


“ She is jealous,** whispered Charteris, 
leaning over Helena and murmuring almost 
in her ear. 

She was delighted. She fancied she was 
beginning to make a conquest of him. 

He kept up the flow of banter all through 
the dinner, and he had rarely been in a more 
entertaining mood ; but when they rose from 
the table he began his excuses to Mrs. 
Leigh. 

I feel so bad that I want to beg off to- 
night. Not even my favorite hostess nor 
my favorite singer can tempt me. I shall 
escort you to your box, of course ; and then 
have I your permission to go home and 
sleep this off ? ’* 

“Certainly. I’m so sorry you are ill. 
Won*t you take something for it ? ** 

“ I have been living on bromo-seltzer all 
day,** he answered. 

A little after nine he was free, and as he 
walked away from the opera house he con- 
gratulated himself exultantly. He would 
see Beatrice to-night and win some word of 
comfort from her. 


f eaftsj aflame 


He walked through Fortieth street to 
Fifth avenue, and then up. 

As he reached the house he saw there was 
a light in the second story windows. Would 
he be refused admission ? Had he come too 
late ? 

Marie opened the door, and took his 
card. 

Beatrice was upstairs in what had been her 
sitting-room. She glanced round at the bare 
walls and packing cases, and hesitated. 

“ Very well, show him up,'* she said, 
finally ; and then passed into her boudoir to 
make some change in her toilet. She wore 
an old skirt and a white cotton shirt waist, 
and her hair was in some disorder ; but she 
was as pretty as she had ever been in even- 
ing dress. She fastened a ribbon around her 
neck and put on a belt ; then she went back 
to receive her visitor. 

“You see I am not prepared for guests, 
but I thought you must have something of 
importance to say, as you came to-night. 
You knew I was going to-morrow, did you 
not ? " she asked. 


213 


i^eartjs aflame 


Marie brought in two chairs, and Beatrice 
occupied one, motioning Charteris to take 
the other. But he preferred to stand. It 
gave him a slight advantage. 

‘‘ Yes, I knew it, and realized that it was 
not a mere change of residence you have 
planned. You are trying to cut yourself off 
from us ; you are tired of us — our pettiness, 
our shallow lives — and you are going to at- 
tempt something nobler,” he commenced, 
earnestly. 

“ How did you guess ? ” she mocked at 
him. 

It is not guessing, it is instinctive knowl- 
edge born of my love for you. I have come 
to understand you, to look for a motive in 
the most trifling action.” 

She made a pretense at gravity. Dear 
me, this is serious ! I hope I don’t disap- 
point you often.” 

He paid no attention to her flippancy, but 
went on : “ And I cannot let you go with- 

out setting myself right in your eyes.” 

“ Really, Mr. Charteris, is it fair to come 
here and force me to listen to things that do 
214 


i^eartjS aflame 


not interest me ? she asked, with a note of 
impatience in her voice. 

She could not forget La Caprice. He 
drew back, as if she had struck him. 

“ I ask your pardon, Mrs. Harmony. 
You are right. I will go at once. Good- 
night, and good-bye.’' 

He turned abruptly and started to leave 
the room. When he got as far as the door 
the perverse spirit died in her — she could 
not let him go in that fashion. 

“ Paul ! ” she breathed, softly. 

Low as the word fell from her lips, he 
heard, and turned again, facing her with fire 
in his eyes. She was smiling. 

You need not be in such a hurry. I 
won’t hear your explanation because — oh, 
well, because I forgive you freely without 
it,” she said, and a thrill of exquisite joy 
quivered through her whole being. 

He approached her slowly, as if still 
doubting the evidence of his eyes, his ears. 

Don’t torment me ! ” he said, fiercely, 
in a low tone. “ I love you ! ” 

She put up her hand warningly. 

215 




“ It was not for this I called you back, 
but that we might part friends,” she said, 
trying to calm her riotous pulses. 

“ Beatrice, listen to me.” He came close 
to her and stood before her chair, looking 
down at her white hands, lying clasped in 
her lap. “ You have nothing to fear from 
me. Once, I confess, 1 had no other wish 
than to force you into my arms ; now, since 
this better love has been born in my heart, 
I feel only tenderness toward you. To see 
your dear face, to hear the music of your 
voice, to know that you do not think un- 
kindly of me, that is all I ask. The per- 
fume of this love will keep my whole life 
sweet. If I were only worthy of you, dear! 
Men take women at their own valuation, and 
I have learned so much of late, Beatrice — to 
realize all you are, and all you are to me.” 
The tender vibration of his voice penetrated 
to her heart, and found an echo there. She 
could not speak ; she was choked with emo- 
tion, but she held out both hands to him. 

He understood, and as he bent his head 
over them, and kissed first one and then the 
216 


l^eavtgi aflame 


Other, it did not need their trembling to tell 
him that he was nearer to her heart than he 
had ever been before. 

Long after he had gone she sat there as he 
had left her, dreaming. Love the Con- 
queror had swept every obstacle before him, 
and this woman, who had longed for his 
coming until she had grown bitter with hope 
deferred, found no strength to oppose him. 

A little smile lingered at the corners of 
her mouth, and her eyes were luminous 
with happiness. 

One blissful hour, and then the spell was 
broken. She was twenty-eight, and gifted 
with what the world calls common sense. 

And this is love ? she mused. 
“ Where is the peace — the great content ? 
Ah, it is not for me ! I writhe, I strain, I 
would burst the thongs that bind and sear. 
I always knew hearts burned with the flames 
of envy, malice and uncharitableness, but I 
did not know that hearts aflame with love 
burn fiercest of all ! ” 


217 







CHAPTER XXIII 


POOR LITTLE ANGELA! 

The next afternoon, when Beatrice was 
comfortably installed in her rooms at her 
uncle’s house, Alison Deyo called. 

‘^You’ll be voting me a nuisance. Bee,” 
she announced, cheerfully, “ but I am going 
back to Westbury to-morrow, and I thought 
Ed like to inspect your new quarters before 
I went.” 

Beatrice welcomed her cordially. I am 
more than glad to see you, Alison. I con- 
fess I was perilously near the blues,” she 
said. 

Her visitor gave a hasty glance at the 
bowl of violets and lilies-of-the-valley on 
the table. “ Well, your friends seem not to 
forget you,” she remarked, and, to her 
amazement, Beatrice blushed, a deep rosy 
hue that made her look five years younger. 

219 


l^cavtjS 3lflamc 


Marie’s entrance with the tea tray restored 
her composure, however. May I light a 
cigarette ? ” Alison demanded, drawing a gold 
case from her pocket. 

“Do you really enjoy it?” queried Bea- 
trice, as she gave her permission. 

Alison deftly struck a match before reply- 
ing. “ It’s only one of my legion of shock- 
ing bad habits.” 

She was a wholesome-looking girl, whose 
skin had been tanned and freckled by con- 
stant exposure to the sun and wind. Her 
dark hair was braided and coiled neatly at 
the back of her small, well-shaped head. 
She wasted little thought over her personal 
appearance, and seemed guiltless of vanity. 
She was at home in the saddle, and bore 
with her the breath of the pines and the 
open country. 

Beatrice gazed at her meditatively. She 
wondered if Alison had been through the 
fiery furnace. At last she gave voice to her 
reflections. 

“ Have you ever been in love, Alison ? ” 
she asked, lazily. 


220 


i^eartjs aflame 


The girl sat bolt upright, and flicked off 
the ashes of her cigarette with her little finger. 
“ Yes,” she answered, slowly ; ‘‘ once.” 

‘‘ And that lasted you a lifetime ? ” 

Alison nodded. “ You see, Bee, mine 
was one of those straight-to-the-finish affairs,” 
she began, seriously. 

Beatrice settled herself back in her chair 
to listen. 

I was ten and he was twenty when he 
came home for the holidays with my brother 
Frank. He taught me to ride, and one day 
when I went fishing with the boys and fell 
into the river he pulled me out, and helped 
dry my clothes, so that Mrs. Weston would 
not learn of my escapade and punish me. 
She did not believe in sparing the rod, and, 
good Lord ! the beatings I got before I 
was sent to school ! So, you see, I was very 
grateful to anyone who helped me out of a 
scrape.” 

The girl paused a moment to puff her 
cigarette, and then continued : I did not 
see him again until Frank was married. He 
was best man, but, in spite of his duties, he 
221 




i^eart0 aflame 


found time to dance with me twice that 
night. I was fifteen, and leggy as a young 
colt, and he was the only man who was civil 
to me. Then I made a god of him ! Some 
years later, when Mrs. Weston and I were 
doing the Alps, we ran across him , at Kleine 
Sheidegg. The waiter told us about the 
American gentleman who had met with an 
accident the day before, and who appeared 
to be suffering greatly. I asked the name, 
and when I heard it I insisted upon nursing 
him. Mrs. Weston made a fuss, but I was 
always obstinate, and I had my way. His 
poor head was all bandaged and he was 
slightly delirious. It was two days before 
he knew me, but when he opened his eyes, 
and called me by name, ah. Bee, I was more 
than repaid ! ” Her voice trailed off into 
nothingness. 

Did he die ? ” asked Beatrice, in an 
awestruck tone. Who would have supposed 
that Alison Deyo had a romance hidden in 
her breast ? 

The girl laughed. 

“ Die ? Of course not ! He is alive, and 
222 


feart^ aflame 


just as much averse to double harness as 
ever/’ she retorted, gayly. “ He looked upon 
me as a child then, and he was grateful to 
Frank’s little sister ; but I loved him, Bea- 
trice, and there’s never been anyone else.” 

And he never guessed ? ” 

‘‘ How should he ? I guarded my secret 
carefully, and when he was better we went 
away. Since then we meet every Winter ; 
he grows stouter as the years pass, and his 
hair is turning gray and is very thin on top. 
If I told you his name you would laugh, 
for he doesn’t look like the hero of a love 
story.” 

Alison lit a fresh cigarette, as if the matter 
were of little concern to her now, and Bea- 
trice stared into the fire and shivered. Then 
Alison’s voice broke the silence. She had a 
mission to accomplish, and she scarcely knew 
how to set about it. 

“ How is it with you. Bee ? ” she asked. 
“ This seems to be the hour for confidences.” 

Beatrice gave a nervous start. 

I — oh, I have no tale of love to pour 
forth,” she answered, hastily. 

223 


i^cartjS aflame 


“ Didn’t you ever care for Harry ? ” 

‘‘ Not in that way. I liked him, but he 
had no desire for my affection.” 

“ You were not in the race ? ” 

No, and there were plenty of others.” 

This was the opening Alison had hoped 
for, so she put her cigarette down and drew 
her chair closer to Beatrice’s. 

“ You haven’t been any place since he left, 
have you ? ” 

No.” 

‘‘ Then you don’t know why I came in 
to-day ? ” 

Beatrice drew a quick breath. 

‘‘ Alison, what is wrong ? ” 

“ Well, someone had to break it to you, 
Bee, and I thought you’d rather hear it from 
a friend.” 

Beatrice held out her hands imploringly. 
“ For mercy’s sake, don’t keep me in sus- 
pense ! ” she cried. 

Alison took her hand in her own warm 
grasp. 

‘‘ It’s about Harry,” she began. 

Harry’s wife gave an almost imperceptible 
224 



“Then she looked up dercelyT 






r*ia 

^ ‘ .' ' ; r ^ K 





• ,Vl, , '-V^T., 

- ' - • ^ vr- ' .■ . ' ‘'4 






%'.WA .;•. ; ■•-• 


■ ■ ■ . • ' -v.*' i;..;'^\^r‘^'* 






f eartg aflame 


sigh of relief. She did not know what it 
was she had feared. 

‘‘ ^t seems that he did not go alone, Bee 
— <i girl went with him.’* 

It was out, now, and Alison felt easier. 
She had not known just how to accomplish 
her self-imposed task, and it had been more 
difficult even than she had anticipated. 

Alison ! ” came Beatrice’s ringing cry. 
“Not Angela Bryce? Oh, don’t say it 
was Angela Bryce ! ” 

“ You knew ? ” But Beatrice had cov- 
ered her face with her hands, and was 
moaning brokenly to herself. “ Oh, the 
poor child ! the poor child ! ” Then she 
looked up fiercely. “Why did not her 
parents stop her ? She is crazy ! ” 

Alison scarcely knew what to make of 
Beatrice’s view of the situation. 

“Stop her? They couldn’t. They didn’t 
know until yesterday,” she explained. “ She 
went off, apparently, to visit her sister in 
Baltimore.” 

Beatrice rose and moved about the room 
nervously. No wonder Harmony had re- 
15 225 


J^eartjs aflame 


scnted her offer to accompany him ! Strange- 
ly enough, beyond a vague feeling of irri- 
tation against her husband, Beatrice did not 
resent the wrong to herself. She was too 
agitated to view the case from the word’s 
standpoint ; and her horror at the crime per- 
petrated against a young girl blinded her to 
the insult to her own womanhood. 

Suddenly she paused, and faced Alison 
with a strange glitter in her eyes. 

‘‘ If men love us for the amount of ado- 
ration we are capable of bestowing upon 
them, then Harry ought to be very good to 
poor little Angela Bryce ! she said, vaguely. 
Then she broke down and, sinking into her 
chair, burst into a violent storm of weeping. 


226 


CHAPTER XXIV 


HER FREEDOM ! 

Alison soothed her as best she could. 
Finally the sobbing ceased, and Beatrice 
tried to smile through her tears. ‘‘ And you 
came to break it to me, dear, so that I should 
not get my first wound from a careless hand ? 
1 don’t know how to thank you,” she said, 
tremulously. 

Bosh ! ” retorted Alison, inelegantly, 
but she winked her eyes rapidly, as if 
ashamed of their moisture. 

“ When was it known ? ” 

‘‘ 1 heard it last night at the opera. Carrie 
Ashton told us, and by that time it was 
public property. Her family is terribly 
broken up ! It seems she wrote, exculpat- 
ing Harry, and saying that she had followed 
him, and the rest of the usual rot. The 
227 


inflame 


idea of eighteen talking about undying affec- 
tion ! Alison sniffed contemptuously, but 
Beatrice was not listening. She was won- 
dering if Charteris had known last night 
that her freedom was a matter of months 
only. 

Her freedom ! Would she make use of 
it to forge new fetters for herself, as so many 
women had done ? 

Her thoughts, half-sweet, half-bitter, were 
interrupted by a knock at the door, and the 
maid entered with some letters. 

Beatrice took them eagerly. One was 
from Harmony. 

Alison withdrew to the window, where she 
stood gazing idly at the passers-by in the 
street, until she heard Beatrice suppress an 
inarticulate cry. 

It is true,’* she said, holding the open 
letter in her shaking hand. He writes me 
from Chicago, and begs me to spare Angela’s 
good name. ‘ Her good name ! ’ ” Beatrice 
laughed. His lawyers will arrange every- 
thing quietly, and he promises to be a better 
husband to the girl who gave up the world 
228 


i^eattss aflame 


for him than he ever was to me.** There was 
a pause, then Beatrice threw the letter care- 
lessly on the table and sat down again. 

‘‘ The world,*’ she mused ; “ we talk of 
giving up the world as if, instead of being 
the top crust, we had roots that reach down 
to the centre of the universe. It is unpleas- 
ant, Alison, but I’ve got to face it ; and per- 
haps he may be kinder to her. You know 
I thoroughly believe that the right woman 
can ennoble any man ; but the right woman is 
so rare — so hard to find.” 

Alison knelt beside her friend and slipped 
her arms about her waist. 

“ After all, you don’t care, do you. Bee ? ” 
she queried, anxiously. 

Care ? ” Beatrice iterated the word 
thoughtfully. Well, it is mortifying, and 
it hurts my pride, but I don’t bear either of 
them a serious grudge. It is strange, isn’t 
it, that a man can make a mess of his life, 
and, when he realizes his mistake, can wipe 
it out and begin all over again ? Can a wo- 
man do that ? ” 

Alison tried to read her eyes. 

229 


i^eartsJ aflame 


Would you like to try ? ** she asked, 
tenderly. 

Beatrice stooped and kissed the girl lightly 
on the forehead. 

Perhaps,” she answered softly. 


THE END. 


230 


A Puritan Witch 


Jl Romantic Love Story 

By MARVIN 



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I N graceful, ardent phrases, an American man wooes an 
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all these matters in Town Topics. 

The short stories in Town Topics are clever and find a 
unique favor with all. Its poetry, burlesques and witticisms 
have a distinct flavor that appeals to smart people. 

Its criticisms of drama, music, art, literature, sports and the 
turf are by the cleverest talent available, and are absolutely 
independent. Its critics are subject to but one rule, 

“BE HONEST— FEAR NONE, FAVOR NONE.’* 

Its editorial comment covers the whole field of subjects inter- 
esting to the intelligent classes. Its opinions are not gloved: 
they are always forceful and honest. 


Prices ; $4 per annum ; $2 six months ; $1 three months. 
Single Copy 10 Cents. 


YOU CAN BUY IT OF ALL NEWSDEALERS, OR FROM 

TOWN TOPICS, 452 Fifth Avenue, New YorK 


ISSUED MONTHLY ON THE J5th- 



A MACA 
ZINE 


Yearly Subscription, $3.00. Single Copies, 25c. 


The sub-title, “A MAGAZINE OF CLEVERNESS,” 

suggests the aims of ‘‘The Smart Set.” It ap- 
peals to everyone who wishes to be entertained. 
Nowadays, more people wish to be amused than in- 
structed. Each number contains a complete stor}^ 
equal in style and literary merit to the modern 
$1.50 book; also many short stories, poems and 
bright miscellany. There are 160 pages of read- 
ing matter in each issue. “The Smart Set” is 
a departure from the stereotyped character of 
current magazines. 

Upon receipt of 23 cents, a copy of the current 
number will be sent post paid. 

ESS ESS PUBLISHIITCt CO., 

452 Fifth A.7S., ITew York. 

90-33 Fleet St., Londen, F. C., England. 


LbJe 1)3 






















LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



